Untraceable
by E. Jean Boyd
Summary: "He hadn't done anything. No one was mad at him. No one wanted revenge against him. Then why was he here? Why were they doing this? And why wouldn't they talk to him!"
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so this is my first fanfiction writing- ever. Be gentle. This is not betaed, so any opps are my fault. Drop me a line and I'll fix them- I know how much they piss _me_ off. ;) Also, I didn't do any medical research- I just made it up. So if you know it's all total BS and it bugs you- KMA! If ppl can have Hotch/Reid slash, I can have medical blunders. ;)p Also, overall this fic gets a minimum T rating, and possible M way later on- but no slash, I don't do that crap. This first chapter however, is K, K+. It's cutsy friendship and background info for next chap.**

**Enjoy! :D**

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_Chapter One:_

"This is ridiculous!"

"I actually think it's a good idea"

"Maybe for _you_ it is. We can't find you half the time." Morgan retort grumpily at Reid, who simply returned Morgan's smirk with a harsh glare.

"Well, come on Reid. You gotta admit that you can be harder to- _trace_ than most of us." JJ smirked, choosing her words carefully as she leaned up against Morgan's desk, having watched their conversation for the past ten minutes, cradling her cup of coffee. Morgan burst out laughing at JJ's sadly truthful statement. Reid glared laser beams at him, and quickly greeted Emily as she approached her desk, desperate for a subject change.

"'Morning, Emily."

"What are we all laughing about?" she asked cautiously as she set down her coat and bag and took in JJ and Morgan's amused faces shadowed over by Reid's surly one.

"Reid being the only one who really needs these damn tracers." Morgan said, smile sliding from his face and returning to frustration.

"Again?" Prentiss asked exasperatedly, to which JJ laughed. Morgan had been complaining-to everyone, about the tracers every day since they had originally found out they would all be scheduled to receive one. That had been nearly three weeks ago.

"Well, come on!" Morgan continued incredulously, starting the same argument he had repeated so frequently. "How can they make us have these?"

"You're scheduled to get yours today, aren't you?" Emily asked, smirking. JJ raised her eyebrows.

Morgan sat with his mouth open, moving slowly up and down unable to respond, shocked at how easily and quickly Emily had been able to see right through him.

"Ha! I knew it!" Emily chided not waiting for an answer, to which JJ snorted and walked away.

"Seriously!" Morgan defended himself, recovered from his bout of stunned silence.

"What's the big deal?" Prentiss asked settling down into her desk, shuffling papers about, ready to begin the day. "I mean- it's not like they're making you pay for it. They're providing the tracer and giving you time off to 'recover'." She said rolling her eyes.

"Yeah- a day." Morgan said disgusted "Hardly makes it worth it."

"Well, it mandatory for all field working agents so you don't really have a choice." Reid said setting down his mug and sitting in his chair at his desk diagonal to Morgan's.

"Well, it's not like I'm gonna quit over it-" Morgan argued.

"Then what's the problem?" Emily said not looking up from her papers.

Quiet.

That got her attention. Prentiss' head shot up and she turned her chair slowly to face Morgan, Reid looking on intently having obviously not caught what Emily had.

"You're scared of needles, aren't you?" she asked quietly, shocked. Reid's mouth dropped into a gaping hole, eyes huge.

Morgan said nothing and was looking down at his hands. That was the only answer Emily needed.

"Oh my God, you are!" Prentiss scoffed through a wide smile, nearly laughing. Reid was having a hard time not laughing himself, but he managed- barely. However, he couldn't _not_ at least smile at the thought of big ol' FBI Agent Derek Morgan afraid of millimeter thick metal tubing being injected into the skin.

Then he thought better of it.

There had been a time when Reid, too, was absolutely horrified of needles, but he had gotten over that. And he knew where his fear had come from, but Morgan had no experience with drugs that Reid was aware of, so where did his fear arise? Then he recalled that conversation he, Morgan, and JJ had about their fears. They didn't know why they had them, they just did. The way Reid was afraid of the dark, and JJ the woods, so too was Morgan afraid of needles.

"Hey! That thing they shoot you up with is not a needle!" Morgan fired back, "It might as well be a gun!"

Emily just continued to chuckle and shake her head as she turned back around to face her towering pile of paperwork.

"It's doesn't even hurt." Reid said gently, trying to cheer Morgan up. He lied, of course. It did hurt, a lot- but not enough to require the day off the Bureau offered. Reid had gotten his yesterday and technically didn't have to be here, but he was. He didn't want the day off- none of them did. Everyone on the team, minus Morgan, had already "received" their tracer.

Basically, after the original memo was sent out, telling the agents of the new requirement that had been passed by the Director, they received a second memo of their scheduled appointment with the Bureau doctors to be given the tracer. They went to said appointment where the doctor had some device that very much resembled a gun, as Morgan had said, at 'shot' an inch long, centimeter thick cylinder, that was, in fact, a miniature GPS device. The Bureau would be able to tell where all field acting agents were and not risk the GPS being lost, taken off, or forced off the agent- it was inside them, of course the GPS would not be activated until an agent was declared MIA or AWOL, even plain old "missing". It was one of the conditions only under which the Director would allow the tracers. He didn't want to know where his agents where 24/7 and neither did they. It would be an invasion of privacy.

For everyone it was in a different place. Morgan didn't really listen to the doc explain it- he was just anxious to get this over with, but he seemed to recall him saying something about "muscle cushioning" and "fatty tissue" or something like that. He had also over heard some of the other agents swear that it was because if ever any of them were captured by some enemy, they wouldn't know exactly where the tracer was to get it out, if they even knew there was one at all. The only way to find it without already knowing where the tracer was in the body, was to use an indicating scanner- which were extremely expensive as well as traceable once sold, so it would be highly unlikely any intelligent criminal would want to or be able to get their hands on one.

Morgan turned his head to the side as the doc pressed the barrel of the gun to his shoulder. It had just floated back to him that the doc had rambled off some numbers about the tracer, "an inch of clearing" he had said. Morgan wasn't sure what the hell that meant, but understood that it would mean pain. He heard the metallic ring in the air as the tracer was forced out of the "gun" and into his skin- deep into his skin.

"OW!" Morgan growled angrily, nearly shouting at the doc. He knew it wasn't the doc's fault, he was just doing his job, but it still hurt. The doctor mutter a small apology that had no feeling behind it, as it was his dozenth that day and there really was nothing he could do about the pain for any of them. He swabbed the area again, put a band aid over the small entrance point, and told Agent Morgan he could go.

"Reid, you little liar." He mumbled rubbing his shoulder, as he left the doctor's examination room.

That had been almost a year ago.

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**A/N: Hope you liked it. Let me know what you thought/think. Reviews of course are always welcome, and they'll make me update sooner. Although I guarantee I'll finish it anyway with or without reviews cause I'd rather shoot myself in the foot than not finish. ;)p**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**** Don't worry; you don't have to read this. ;) **

**Note to all my amazing readers: you made me cry! I'm unfathomably thrilled there are people reading this! Ppl from US, Canada, United Kingdom, Ireland, Singapore, France, Italy, Germany, Spain Argentina, Australia, Malaysia, Mexico, Sweden, Denmark, New Zealand, Norway, Poland, South Africa, Hungary, Brazil, Belgium, Estonia (I've been to Tallinn- that was cool!), Czech Revar, Japan, and the Netherlands! I kid you not; I'm not making this up! I love you all! You've made me so happy! **

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**NOTE: Any alerting/favoriting/reviewing will result in a SHOUT OUT! If you don't want me to, just let me know. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! :D**

***clears throat***

**Story! Right-**

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_(A/N: Haha! Sorry, but I couldn't help myself. ;) )_

_**Previously on Criminal Minds: **_

_That had been almost a year ago. . ._

* * *

It was a good morning, a normal morning; an extremely ordinary, monotonous, routine, relaxing, auto pilot kind of morning.

Was.

He had woken up to the smell of his automated coffee marker, brewing a fresh batch of heavenly, frothy goodness at its same, routine time as all the days previously. He had moaned into his pillow at the thought of leaving his comfy warm bed, when all he wanted was another five minutes. Just like every other day. He succumbed to the inevitability of getting out of bed, getting dressed, and going to work. Just like every other day. But of course- not without his "cup of joe."

So he left- walked out of his apartment, shut the door and locked it behind him. Just like every other day. He meet up with Mr. Bromley on the stairs as he returned from his routine morning walk. The man was in his seventies and was fit as a fiddle, insisting on taking the stairs every time he had the chance. _Probably why he's so fit_- Reid thought again for the hundredth time. Just like every other day. He said 'Hello' to the elderly man, as always and was on his way.

He left his building and started walking. Mr. Bromley had inspired him to walk to the BAU for the past few weeks, rather than take the subway as his typical commute. After all, it wasn't really that far away, and he had to admit that many studies had showed evidence that daily walks were good for both the body and mind. Plus he could use the sun. He was rather pale, as Garcia and Morgan and Prentiss had all pointed out to him- more than once. True he didn't really need the walk for exercise, but it was nice to walk to work with his steaming cup of hot coffee and already feel like he had accomplished something for the day once he got there.

Spencer Reid smiled as he sipped his coffee, and walked down the road.

* * *

Spencer Reid was easily spotted the moment he stepped out of the building. The kid was wearing that hideous purple scarf again and had his metallic coffee cup in hand that reflected the sun. He might as well have had a bull's-eye on his forehead.

It was too easy. Poor kid.

But what did it matter. He was just a means to an end. They had all agreed. This was the plan suggested, this was the plan they chose, and this was the plan they were carrying out. Right now.

The kid had been walking to work for the past few weeks- too easy; completely exposed and vulnerable on the wide open sidewalk. He was used to the sounds and hustle and bustle of the street so he thought nothing of the sound of the speeding van coming up behind him. It was just another car on the road, or perhaps he didn't hear it over the bus that had just stopped shortly behind him and was pulling away. Whether or not he had heard it, he didn't turn until the van came screeching to a halt.

It was a crowded sidewalk- about six people in twenty yards either way. But this was their perfect shot and they were gonna make sure _they _knew he was gone, anyway. Who cared about some dumb witnesses? Make that "dumb, _screaming_ witnesses."

He had to give the kid credit, though. He caught on fast. By the time the doors had burst open and three men came tumbling out, he had already dropped his coffee mug and was reaching for his gun. He was fast but not quite enough. The two guys grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back. Man, this kid was a fighter. Sucker nearly got free. He was kicking and twisting before the other guy socked in the face.

There. That got him. He kinda felt bad for him, seeing his head twist like that. God! And the sound. He hadn't heard that in years. He had hoped he wouldn't have to, his fighting day were long over and regretted, but here they were. The kid wasn't quite out, but he was pretty dazed- at least enough for the two guys to drag him over to the van and through him in. He hit the floor hard, with a resounding loud metallic "thunk". The damn people were still screaming, when they slammed the doors shut and sped off.

* * *

"See ya, Betty!" Charlotte called behind her, to the bus driver she knew so well, as she got off.

She stepped down the last step on to the damp sidewalk. What she wouldn't give for a cup of coffee right now. It had been a rough night. Why she had ever though being a night shift ER nurse was the best way to "help people," she'll never know. But she did love her job, she mentally resigned. But right now, she loved coffee more. And she could smell it.

_What?_

Oh. It was that really cute guy again, walking past her with his own cup of coffee. She could see the steam coming off of it. God, was there anything better than a cute, smart guy with coffee?

Charlotte was pretty sure his name was Spencer- at least that was what Veronica has told her. She was allegedly the barista that worked at the coffee shop he went to every Saturday morning, where he got his regular "viente double shot hazelnut latte, "at sat down for an hour to read a stack of books that he would bring with him. Completely different books, every time. He read incredibly fast, Veronica had said. She could never see his eyes moving behind his glasses he would wear when reading, but she saw his hands. He would briskly slide one finger down the page, guiding his eyes and no sooner get to the bottom, than go to the next page, do the same, then turn the page and repeat.

He sounded great from what Charlotte had heard of him from Veronica, who had turned him into a bit of an obsession- well, more like a strong crush. But she had to see for herself. Charlotte came to the coffee shop one Saturday to see and since had made it her routine to do so.

He. Was. _Gorgeous_.

He was quite, and shy. And always hid away in the corner where you could hardly seem him, much to her dismay. People seemed to avoid him, as though they were intimidated by his reading. Charlotte was certain he could actually read that fast. He wasn't like one of those typical douches who goes to a coffee shop to sit in the middle of it with their lab top and start to write just to show off that they're writing. He tried to hide. He genuinely just wanted to read.

She felt like a creeper, just watching him every Saturday, but she didn't have the balls to ask him out, and God, she wanted to. She would smile at him in the shop and he would look stunned then smile back, then go back to reading. Once she caught him looking at her. He turned redder than a cherry and nearly got whiplash he turned his head so quickly. It made her smile. _He_ was looking at _her_.

He was so cute!

Once they had been in line together! She had come up behind him. He had actually said "Hello" to her. God, she was pathetic, acting like a giddy school girl for someone she didn't even know. But she did know one thing- and she didn't tell Veronica about it either. When she had been in line behind him, and he had turned around after he got his coffee, his jacket opened slightly. She saw a badge, like one of those door swipe pass badges. It had his picture on it, and said . . . wait . . . did that say. . . _FBI_?

_Oh. My. God! Could he get any hotter?_

Then she would occasionally pass him in the street like today. _He must live somewhere nearby_, she thought as he walk past her apparently absorbed in thought. It was really cute; he had a slight smile on his face.

_No, no. . . . Oh no! He's getting away! Quick! Suck __**it**__ up and just do it already! _Her inner self screamed at her. _Do it! Ask him out!_

"Alright!" she yelled back at herself. _Oh, God! I hope he didn't hear me._

He hadn't. He was nearly ten feet away now and she started into a slight jog to catch up to him. She was going to do it!

She heard an engine rev as it sped up behind her and she took a few steps away from the curb, afraid of getting run over. But she needn't have worried. The driver was in complete and total control as she sped past her and screeched and the brakes mere feet from Spencer.

It was like something out of a movie, but instead of excitement and adrenalin, she was paralyzed with fear. Just as the black van lurched to a stop, Spencer was already moving into action. She watch as he let go of the coffee and reached for waist with his right hand. _Did he have a gun?_

She wanted to say something, to warn, to help, to _get_ help, to distract the men that had jumped out of the van and now grabbed Spencer. All that came out was a scream. _What good is screaming going to do?_

He was fighting so hard against them, but it wasn't enough. And all she could do was _scream? _As she watched, another man punch Spencer- _hard_- across his face. He stopped fight and went slightly limp. The two men dragged Spencer to the van letting his feet grind carelessly on the ground behind him, and then flung him into it. Charlotte heard him slam against the metal floor before the third man jumped and they smashed the door shut as they speed off.

It was then she realized that she was still screaming, but also that she wasn't the only one.

_Get a grip! _The inner voice screamed at her again. "Right." She said aloud, as though saying it would make it help. It seemed to work. She reached in her pocket and pressed the three numbers engraved in every child's mind from the time the first learn to use a phone.

"_911, what's your emergency . . . ?"_

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**A/N: Okay, so- yeah. There you go! I had originally planned to put the first few parts of the next chapter in this one, but I thought it was getting too long and I really wanted to end it here because it's kinda epic. Maybe. ;)**

**No! I'm totally kidding! Scroll down, there's more. ;) Although I REALLY REALLY wanted to end it here but yall were so wonderful that I gave you some more, plus I wanted to make sure yall got something new soon. I don't want to be one of those evil writers who starts something, gets halfway through and then only updates once every two months if you're lucky. ;)**

**P.S- I say "yall" a lot. You're gonna have to get used to it cause I'm from Texas. ;)**

***clears throat***

**Anyway-**

* * *

"You know, maybe you should at least look like you're working." Emily smirked over her shoulder at Morgan, while he leaned back in his and tossed a ball up in the air and caught it- again, for the hundredth time that morning.

"Ah, come on, now!" Morgan smiled at her "Let me have my fun."

"It's not like your paperwork is gonna do itself . . ." Prentiss warned, though still smiling, already knowing Morgan's response.

"You know Reid- " he began.

"Yeah, I know. I know. 'He'll do it for you even if you don't ask.'" Her smile continued while she shuffled some more papers, closed the file and moved it to the smaller pile on her desk, then reach for one from the large pile to begin the process over.

"And in half the time, too!" Morgan chuckled.

"You know what my mind just refuses to comprehend?" Emily asked giving up the battle with the towering pile and letting the file in her hand fall back to her desk as she turn around to face Morgan, frustrated.

"I _cannot_ understand how _anyone_ could actually _enjoy _doing paperwork!" Prentiss said purely dumbfounded.

"Hey, think of it this way." Morgan said already smiling at his untold joke. "If the paperwork was A-sexual, it could just do itself." Morgan then proceeded to laugh loudly at his own joke.

"And what else I can't understand is how you manage to get Reid to do yours!" Emily said disgusted and turned back to her conquering pile while Morgan continued to laugh.

He was still laughing when they heard the elevator ding its arrival.

"Speak of the devil that must be him." Morgan said looking over at Emily about to turn around and greet their friend when her head popped up and quickly turned to Morgan. He didn't like that look.

"No. It can't be. He's too early. He's been walking to work lately and been so consistent you could set your watch to him." She said uneasily. Her and Morgan both turn to look at the elevator as if on cue.

They looked over just in time to see the doors open to a man who practically ran out of them, not waiting for the doors to completely open. A man all too familiar with them and this place.

"Oh my God." Morgan said slowly.

The man was speed walking towards them as though it was all he could do to keep from bolting. His eyes were red and watery as they scrunched up against his flushed face, and his frowned pulled on his skin revealing large age lines down his face. He seemed to not notice Emily and Morgan, looking right through them. Everywhere people were stunned in to silence, stopped in mid step. Someone over at the counted was spilling coffee; they were too interested in the scene playing out before them.

"Gideon!" Prentiss cried as she got to her feet, Morgan with her, as he raced past her and straight upstairs to the landing where Hotch's office was. All they could do was watch as he bashed his fist once on the door with an incredible, echoing bang before he let himself in.

They all saw through the window as Hotch hung up the phone he had held to his ear moments ago without any explanation to the person on the other end. Gideon hadn't shut the door rather flung it open, leaving the whole bull pen capable to hear.

"Gideon?" Hotch asked looking at him clearly worried, possibly for his sanity.

Rossi had come out of his office, no doubt having heard Gideon's entrance, and was now standing at the door of Hotch's office, looking in.

Gideon simply held out his hand which they all now realized had a box in it, and allowed Hotch to take it from his hand without a word. Hotch quickly opened the box, took one glance in it, then looked back at Gideon with a look of horror clearly written on his face. _Never_ had Morgan seen Hotch actually show his emotions; he knew he felt them, but to show them. . . well- it definitely wasn't because Gideon had just handed Hotch a new puppy.

Gideon blinked back tears and struggle to ask the question through his grief and loathing as he gritted his teeth and chocked out:

"Where is Reid?"

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**A/N: Tada! Now just because I don't need reviews doesn't mean I don't like 'em. :D **

**DO IT! PUSH THE BUTTON! Ya know ya wanna . . . ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, here's the deal. I'm pretty much just winging this fic. I mean- I have a broad main idea where I want this to go, with the major details and a few minor ones, but no exact dialog or anything like that. For example, the character of Charlotte was a spur of the moment creation- I just really wanted to have a POV of some bystander seeing Reid taken, but then I thought up Charlotte and all her back-story. Not that I don't totally love her now. ;) That being said, I'd like to know from you guys if you want Charlotte to have a bigger role in this. I already have her in one more scene for sure- but after that, I can leave her out entirely. But I'm not sure I want to, which brings me back to asking you guys. So let me know what you think, and about anything else- because after this chapter- I don't have anything written. Let me know if there is specifically anything that you'd like to see someone do or say or something like that and I might put it in. Just drop me a line. I want to hear from you guys!**

**Also, as you read on, you may feel that Gideon is slightly out of character- and I wish to explain. This all takes place post Gideon leaving the BAU. Since he has yet to come back on the show, I feel I have a little leeway as to how he would be/react to things after his slight break down/midlife crisis or whatever you want to call it. That being said- **_**this**_** is how I depict Gideon to be if he were to return- not as a weak or broken person, but a lost and confused person. Do you get what I mean? And well, if you still don't like it- tough tities!**

**SHOUT OUTS TO:**** purplerayz, danicali80, Noskilz, harrietamidala1691, morgo7kc, AgnesSophia, kat4u, JLeStar97, ShadowxUplifted05, TheFanFicAddict, 68luvcarter, Bracali, nicci15, catdoctor, N'kala, momiji'sunusedhalo, BlondeSlytherin, KASEY64, PheonixTearsHP, MeaParavitas, and donttouch, who gave me the kick in the butt to get this chapter done and out for today. ;) I love you all! :D**

**Right! So- story. **

**Got it!**

**Enjoy. ;D**

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Reid slammed into the floor of the van. His eyesight was blurry as it was from the punch to the face a second before, but now he flat out couldn't see due to the impact with the floor forcing his eyes closed. He heard the door slam, someone yelled _"GO!"_ and he felt the van tires screech against the pavement outside as they sped away from this place. It all happened in a few seconds.

Reid's shoulder throbbed terribly as he tried to push himself up, but before he could even open his eyes, he was flipped over onto his back and there were hands grabbing him. There was a pair on each of his wrists, forcing them together and as far above his head as they would go against the floor. Then there were two more pairs, one on each of his had already taken his gun- _how many of these guys were there?_

Though he still fought, all Reid had managed to do was twist and falter his attacker's grips feebly. He didn't stop his squirming until one of the masked persons struck him across the face. He couldn't stop the small pained gasp escape his lips.

"Where's you tracer?" the masked person in front of him asked angrily.

"What tracer?" Reid replied vehemently through clenched teeth, staring straight back into the man's face- what he could see of it anyway through the ski mask. Why bother trying to hide? These guys already appeared to know more than Reid would've liked them to, so why lie when they already knew the truth? Well, he certainly wasn't going to _help_ them. At least he could send them a message- show them that he didn't care what they wanted; they weren't going to get it, not from him.

"If he's not gonna talk, than shut him up!" the driver shouted back to them.

The man in front of Reid pulled out a roll of duct tape from his back pocket and torn off a strip. Spencer knew no matter what he did, it was going to cover his moth one way or another, but that didn't keep from trying to turn his head away as the tape approached his face; he was going to be as uncooperative as possible. The man forced the tape on roughly, pressing it sharply into Reid's flesh, tightly across his mouth. Though he knew it would do nothing, and certainly no good, Spencer gave the man the dirtiest look he could muster.

"Who's got the scanner?" the man called to the others, looking around. _What? How did they get a scanner? Who _are_ these people?_

An arm, that Spencer couldn't tell whose it belong to, reached over him holding what slightly resembled a metal detector wand, like the ones security had at the airport. Wait a minute- it _was_ a metal detector! _How do they know it's made of metal? How do they know about the tracers at all? __**Who are these people?**_

The man took the wand and started to glide it through the air just above Reid, starting with his arms. Two sweeps on each revealed nothing, so the man moved on to his torso, sweeping side to side, back and forth, making sure he was positive he didn't leave a single millimeter of skin un-scanned. He reached Reid's right hip bone and heard that sweet pinging sound that his ears had been straining for. He moved it back and forth a bit, hovering over the spot, listening to the 'ping' fade in and out, pinpointing exactly where it sounded over the skin.

He reached into his back pocket again, pulled out a butterfly knife and flipped out the blade. Reid's eyes grew wide with terror.

"Hold him still!" the man shouted at the others, as Reid doubled his fighting efforts tenfold.

"Wait!" one of the other men cried. It was one of the men holding Reid's legs. "What if it's just a metal plate or something?" the man asked. Reid's profiling kicked in- this man was already remorse for something he hadn't done. This man didn't want to do this; this man didn't want to be here- so why was he?

"Well then, that's just too damn bad!" the man with the knife said. "He had his chance to own up and didn't take it. Now, he has to deal with that!"

The man returned his attention to Reid, struggling on the floor to break free. The man took the knife in one of his fists and brought both hands forward to undo the kid's belt. Spencer's eye got impossibly wider as he continued to fight. The man pulled down Reid's slack to mid thigh and the reached for his boxers. Spencer was going absolutely crazy; if he kept on as he was, he was more likely to hurt himself let alone get free. Thankfully, the man only tugged on the boxers, pulling them down about two inches to reveal Reid's hip bone clearly, leaving him still covered.

The man held the knife in his hand, almost like a scalpel and brought it to Reid's skin. Reid could only watch as the blade pressed deep into his body, releasing his blood to flow freely down his flesh and onto the floor. The tape covering his mouth only muffled Spencer's scream. He could have sworn he saw the man holding his leg look away.

The man with the knife went back into the wound and cut again, making it deeper still. The others were starting to have a very difficult time holding the kid down and still.

"There." The man with the knife said, "That should be plenty deep- now, to just get it out." He said with almost a cheerful tone.

Reid looked down at the man and saw he no longer held the knife in his hand- he held _nothing_ in his hand. The horrible realization struck Reid then that the man planed to pull out the tracer- with his bare hands.

Reid let his head fall back to the floor, bracing himself for what was to come.

But it wasn't enough.

The man's fingers entered him, tearing his skin, expanding his wound. Reid back arched against the floor in agony as the others still fought to hold him down. His eyes were squeezed tight in pain, his head thrown back as all that was able to leave him was a muffled shriek, tearing at his throat. Reid could feel the man's finger's searching in him; he could feel them probing every last millimeter of his wound, scraping against the sides. Then they stopped.

"Gotcha!" the man grunted more to himself than anything.

Spencer felt a tug, a pull inside him, and it wasn't loosening. Reid cried out again as the man continued to pull at the tracer. Spencer felt it slide no more than a centimeter. The surrounding muscle seemed to pull together in its wake as though it was air tight. With one last gut wrenching yank, the man managed to pull the tracer out with a disgusting squelching sound of suction caused by the blood, all followed by Reid's scream and a metallic thud as his body went limp and he hit the floor of the van once more.

The man chuckled as he examined the small cylinder in his hand. He reached forward towards the panting Reid's face and grabbed the scarf around Reid's neck and wiped his hands clean of the boy's blood off on it. He then waded up the scarf and placed it against Reid's hip and wiped away the blood. A sharp intake of breathe from Reid let him know it was still exceedingly painful. Not to mention the heaving of his chest as the kid tried to steady his breathing through the pain. The man placed the tracer in the waded scarf and handed it to the man holding Spencer's leg that had had the objection before.

"Get rid of it." He order the man. The man holding Reid's leg nodded.

The man that had the knife pulled Reid's boxers and pants back up, buckled his belt and told the others to "Keep him quiet!" The man turned away and went to sit up front with the driver.

Spencer was drained. He had nothing left after all his fighting, and the incision had all but made him pass out. It was all too easy then, for the others to once again flip Spencer over, force his hand behind his back and bind his wrist and ankles together with plastic wire ties.

They then picked him up from under his arms and forced Spencer to his knees. Someone behind Reid grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head up, then shoved a rag over his gagged mouth and nose. Spencer tried to move his head one way or the other, away from the rag, but the hand in his hair stopped him. The hand was harsh and pushed the cloth heavy against Reid's face, practically suffocating him as the chemical fumes wafted up into his nose, burning.

The man didn't remove his hand until Reid's eyelids started to droop. Reid's breathing was becoming very deep and slow as he sunk to the floor. He saw the man that had objected standing in front of him, looking down at him, still holding Reid's bloody scarf and tracer. The man's eyes- they looked . . . sad, disappointed. But as soon as Reid thought he saw this it was gone and instead they had a look of determination.

That was the last thing Reid saw before a blindfold was put across his eyes and tide tightly in a knot, jabbing him in the back of the head. The last thing he _thought_ before the blackness the chloroform caused took over, was how pissed off Morgan was going to be.

* * *

"_Where- is- Reid?"_ Gideon repeated slowly through clenched teeth, still struggling to speak through his horror. He was starring daggers into Hotch as he looked at the man that had no answer, certain he would strike him down if he even sensed a lie.

"I- I don't know." Hotch finally said, seemly slightly shocked by his own words; whether from the fact that he _didn't_ know, or that he had said them- he didn't care. _Where was Reid?_

Without another word or glance, Gideon flung himself around and stormed out of Hotch's office, already shouting at the top of his voice, down into the bullpen.

"Emily! Have you seen Reid?" He asked, worry etched in every line on his face, in the very tone of his voice as he downed the stairs too quickly, not even looking where he was going. He had eyes only for Emily and her answer. Gideon never called her Emily; he never looked like this- worn, afraid. It frightened her more than anything. _What was going on?_

"No, I- he, he hasn't come in yet." Prentiss replied, worried and at a loss. The second the 'no' had formed in her mouth Gideon had turned his attention to Morgan turning his head so quickly it seemed as if he had been looking at him the whole time. Emily had barely gotten her response out of her mouth before Gideon was speaking to Morgan.

"Morgan? You?" He asked breathlessly, his mouth remaining open while he waited for an answer, unwilling to except Emily's more than accurate one. Hotch had come out of his office and was walking down the last step to join them all in the bullpen, as Gideon waited stock-still, his very breath hanging on Morgan's answer.

"No. Emily's right, Gideon." Morgan said, obviously trying to stay calm.

At this, Gideon turned away quickly, starting to pace around in a small hurried circle, one hand on his hip as the other flew up into his hair grabbing at his roots, forcing himself not to do this, not to cry, not to break down, not to fall to pieces. But- _how could he not?_ His last hope was gone; the hope that it wasn't true, it was all lies, that he had assumed wrong. He had never wanted to be more wrong in his entire life.

"What are we going to do, Hotch?" Gideon asked his ex-coworker, his voice cracking.

"Gideon, you need to-" Hotch began but was interrupted by JJ running around the corner, seeing Reid's desk empty and taking in Gideon's appearance. She all but screamed out:

"No! It can't be true!"

"JJ! What's wr-" Hotch began but was once again interrupted by JJ.

"I just received this 9-1-1 call from the local PD." She said, addressing all of them as she reached into her pocket, pulled out the recorder there and pressed 'play.' The room was silent as it was filled with the tone of a ringing phone and then that of a very calm, trained operator. It was ironic to the situation, undoubtedly. JJ wondered how it must be like that for all emergency situations when that number was dialed. What was she doing? She had to focus on Reid. The operator answered.

"_9-1-1, what's your emergency?"_

"_Yes! Hello? I just saw a van pull up to the sidewalk and three men jumped out! They grabbed a man then through him in the van and drove off!" _It was the voice of a woman, a young woman, and you didn't have to be a profiler to know she was scared.

"_Ma'am? Can you tell me where this happened?" _The operator asked calmly as though this woman hadn't just called her to tell her that she was possibly the last person to see that man alive.

"_I'm on West Avenue. Right outside the convenience store. A bunch of people, saw not just me." The scared woman said, trying to gather herself and be useful._

"_Ma'am, do you know who this man is that was taken?" _The operator asked with a slight strictness in her tone, showing the importance of the question.

"_His name's Spencer. He works for the FBI."_

JJ then cut off the recorder. Everyone stood in silence. They took barely a moment to let the fact that Spencer and been abducted off a busy street in broad daylight, before they were all moving into action. Hotch was the first to speak.

"Morgan. Call Garcia. Tell her what's happened and to trace Reid's phone." Hotch immediately began to list out orders. Time was important and they didn't know how much Reid had. "JJ. I need to interview the witness that made the 9-1-1 call."

"She's already at the station. The officers are holding her until we arrive." JJ replied immediately with a determination minimally shadowed by sadness.

"Good." Hotch said, continuing on as if there were no break in his process. "Emily and Morgan, go to the station and talk to the witness. Find out who she is and how she knows Reid."

Morgan started to turn away. Prentiss nodded her head before she interrupted. "Reid has been walking to work for the past few weeks. His attackers would have to have been watching him to know that their best opportunity to grab him would be then." Having added her two, hopefully helpful, cents, Emily turned to follow a stunned Morgan. JJ could hear their hushed undertones as they walked away.

"Why didn't Reid tell me he was walking to work?" Morgan asked quietly, hurt.

"Because he knew you'd make a big deal about it and freak out." Emily replied simply. They had gotten too far away for JJ to hear Morgan's retort but judging from his hands flying in the air, Reid assumption had been proven correct.

"Right," Hotch continued. "then, Rossi!" Hotch turned to address the man that had been staring down upon the scene from the stairs he just now started to descend. " You and I will go to Reid's place. Someone there must have seen something. We'll interview the other tenants, see if they noticed anyone or anything suspicious."

Everyone broke to leave, hurrying about getting their boy back. Three however were unmoving: Hotch, Gideon, and JJ who hung back slightly away from the others knowing what was to come.

"Hotch-" Gideon began with a slightly pleading, slightly angry tone, but was cut short.

"Gideon, you need to comprehend that you are a civilian now. You need to understand what that means in terms of this case and any limitations that I will not be able to over look or _allowed_ to. Do you understand?" Hotch said hurriedly, almost pleading at the end, trying to get the man to understand; he already knew what this was leading up to- the second that the box in Hotch's hand had been delivered to Gideon, he knew.

And so did Gideon.

"I do Agent Hotchner, but you too must understand that in no longer being an agent, I am no longer required to take orders." Gideon replied. He wasn't angry, he wasn't hurt. He was determined, and he wasn't going to be told by anyone, including Hotch, that he would not be "_allowed_" to do the one thing he believed could save Reid.

"Gideon!" Hotch called after the man as he stormed away. Hotch knew he would stay in the building. He needed to know everything he could about Reid, plus he couldn't yet do anything to save Reid until he had information. He would only get that here.

Hotch sighed, knowing he'd have to deal with this better later, he turned to JJ. She was well aware he had not assigned her anything because he didn't want the others to hear it- not yet; that was why she stayed, to receive her assignment, which she unfortunately already knew.

"JJ." Hotch spoke in undertones, not wanting any of the other agents to hear. "I need you to take this to the lab." He silently and gently handed over the box in his hand to her.

He continued quietly, glancing to the sides, making sure no one was listening. "I know you're going to open it, but don't do it here. Go to your office and then take it down. I'll tell everyone else. They'll all know soon." As he spoke his quiet words seemed to soften. JJ understood that there was nothing good in that box.

Hotch quickly turned and left with slight speed to his step, the same way the others had to get _something_ to help them find Reid. JJ didn't wait all but more than one still, horrifying second where she stared down at the box, imagining all the travesties within. After a beat she absorbed the fact that the only way to know, was to open it.

She turned on a dime, letting her hair whip out behind her in her wake as she rushed off towards her office. She didn't care about being subtle right now. She had to know!

She reached her office, opened the door and slammed it behind her locking it. She went over to the window overlooking the bullpen and twisted the blinds closed, after a great deal of effort; her hands were trembling. She set the box in the middle of her desk and turned the desk lamp on once she was behind it.

It was a normal, extremely ordinary, monotonous, routine looking kind of cardboard box.

Unlabeled.

Small.

It sat there. The flaps were folded carelessly over the top, simply to cover the contents after it had already be opened.

It sat there. JJ took in every last wrinkled line of cardboard, every crease, trying to find some sign of what it held.

Nothing.

And it still, just- sat there.

The thought that this simple, small, ordinary _box_ could contain- anything! All of which swimming around her head were nothing good for Reid.

_Open the box._

JJ closed her eye and took a deep breath through her nose, fanning calm. She opened her eyes and forced her trembling hands to take the flaps in her fingers. She pulled them back- _one. . . two. . . three-_

JJ practically jumped backwards from a mixture of shock and fear, hitting her chair, smashing it into the bookcase, causing things to come crashing to the floor.

"Oh, GOD!"

She had screamed it. She was sure of it. And the only thing that had stopped her doing it again was her own hand that hand shot up to her mouth. Her other hand gripped out at the wall for support before she collapsed, as she looked down into the box that held an all too familiar blood soiled purple scarf and placed delicately on top of it, was a small narrow metal cylinder covered with blood.

JJ couldn't stop herself from crying out once more into her hand, thankfully muffling it. She slowly let her hand fall from her mouth as she approached the box again. Her chest was heaving from her uneven breathing from the shock.

Then she saw it.

On one off the flaps was writing. It was on the underside, so that we the box was opened, it would be readable. It was one word. One word in a very neat and fanciful handwriting- almost like calligraphy but not quite that intricate. One word. Just one.

_Marco?_

* * *

**A/N: Ta Da! Did you like it? Let me know! This ended up waaaaaaaaaaaaaay longer than I planned for it to be (by nearly a thousand words.) And hoorah for more spur of the moment ideas! I'll give you a cookie if you guess which one it was. ;) And don't for get to put in your two cent about Charlotte! :D**

**Do it or she dies! Nah- I won't kill her- well. . .nah-well . . . ;)**

**P.S- 'cookie'= codename for SHOUT OUT! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'M SORRY! I know- I'm an evil person and that bad type of writer I swore not to turn into for taking WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too long to update. Negative 10,000 brownie points to me. ****Note to self and others: ****Starting up a business is a b*%#h. **

***coughs***

**Now that that's out of the way and everybody's gotten their hate out on me- I actually have a new chapter! ****And good news: due to the multitude of wonderful reviews concerning Charlotte's fate and my own personal leanings- I shall be keeping her as a character to make continued contributions to this story.**

***and there was much rejoicing***

**She is in this chapter for the inevitable questioning of course but she shall also pop up in it from time to time with a POV maybe and definitely towards the end. *wink wink* Concerning this chapter- I drop a "bombshell" concerning Charlotte that some of you may hate me for but I've been planning this since I made her up, so- if you don't like it, well that's just too bad. **

**Concerning this capture: Major answers for basic plot! **

***and there was much rejoicing***

**Oh! And this is rated T+ this chapter and all following. It starts to get messy- literally. This chapter, I have a paragraph that goes into slight detail about blood, so if your squeamish have a friend read this for you first and tell you what to skip. **

**Enough talk- its shout out time!**

**SHOUT OUTS TO:**** danicalif80 (whose username I believe I misspelled in last chapter's shout outs- my apologies), purplerayz, ****AhmoseInarus, harrietamildala1691, donttouch, sunshinecutiebre, PheonixTearsHP (whose name I KNOW I am not misspelling as I have check a hundred times), jimmy-barnes-13, SumNumb3rs, Torrant2, KASEY64, 68luvcarter, eyesonfire, ravenbear, TheLoneWolf, momiji'sunusedhalo, lolyncut, PinkHimeLacus, mythepoeia, Navaehs Illusion, Maria Rianki, and Demongrrl223. I LOVE you guys! You are the reason I check my email every five minutes. **

**P.S- Idk why computer all of the sudden started doing awesome happy faces. **

**Alright now enough tom foolery- to work!**

***clears throat***

"_Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: Chapter Four!"_

***and there was much rejoicing***

* * *

The police station was all too familiar to Emily and Morgan. The building was the same as it ever was. Same brick, same paint, same desks and same coffee maker- they _knew_ that, but it still couldn't correct their feeling of darkness as they entered the building. They _knew_ it was _just a building_, one that they had been in countless times, but today was the one place they'd give anything not to be in. Today it housed the one useful witness to their friend's, their baby brother's, kidnapping. Today it housed the one person that could possibly be the last one to see their brother alive. The building didn't scare them, the girl didn't scare them. The fact that Spencer very possibly could be dead and the fact they didn't know whether he was or not scared them. No, not scared- horrified them. They were in fact at this point unable to do shit to find Spencer- _that_ scared them. The waiting. The unknown.

It would soon be remedied.

"Hi, Charlotte?" Emily asked as she walked towards the girl sitting at the detective's desk she had talked to when she arrived.

The girl turned around and stood up.

"Charlie." The girl corrected extending her hand to the nice woman she knew was from the FBI. Someone else to talk to.

"Hi. I'm Agent Emily Prentiss," Prentiss said slightly taken aback by the girl's forwardness. "This is Agent Derek Morgan," Emily said gesturing to the bulky black man behind her. He seemed slightly pissed off about something. No doubt the fact that his coworker had been kidnapped. _They must be friends,_ Charlie thought.

"We're here to question you about what you saw this morning?" Emily said it as a question, hoping to prompt the girl to talk. The girl sighed obviously exasperated.

"I already told the police everything I could remember." She said rapidly, continuing on frustrated. "Shouldn't you guys be doing something to find Spencer?"

"That's why we're here." Morgan said calmly for his outward appearance. "We need to know as much as we can and make sure we didn't miss anything." He stared right at her, her staring back still angry, never breaking eye contact. It was intense.

Charlie sighed finally breaking the stare down and flopping into the chair she had just vacated. After all, this guy obviously cared about Spencer and was undoubtedly closer to him than she was so if he could be calm, she definitely should be.

"I'm sorry." She said, indeed much smoother than before. "This is all just so stressful- and upsetting." She said it as an afterthought with the bite of the anger she had before- like she was mad at herself. It didn't go unnoticed. Morgan and Emily shared a quick glance before Emily spoke again.

"Can you tell us how you know Reid?" She asked, getting straight to it.

"Reid? Who's Reid?" Charlie asked confused. "I thought this was about Spencer?" She asked looking back and forth between the two agents. Morgan couldn't help but chuckle. It was a simple mistake- but still a funny reaction. Obviously the girl didn't know Spencer's last name.

"It is." He assured her "'Reid' is Spencer's last name. It's what _we_ call him."

"Oh." Charlie said, understanding but slightly surprised at herself. She never really realized that she didn't know his last name.

"Charlie?" Emily asked, still waiting for an answer.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Well," Charlie began but suddenly turned pink. This was going to be very awkward. "I don't really know Spencer." She finished.

Morgan and Prentiss were clearly confused and glanced at each other just to make sure they hadn't missed something.

"What I mean to say is-" Charlie went on, quickly correcting herself, "that I don't really know Spencer very well. We're more like acquaintances. I see him in the coffee shop every Saturday, and we've talked before. Said 'Hello' and stuff."

Charlie was clearly uncomfortable. She was wringing her hands in her lap and looking down at the floor and she was blushing. She was embarrassed. Emily got it of course but Morgan didn't quite understand.

"Is something wrong?" He prodded, figuring she was hiding something. Emily had to fight not to roll her eyes at the thickness Morgan was displaying that she firmly believed could only be capable by those with a 'Y' chromosome.

"No." Charlie said quickly, still not looking up.

"You said that you were no more than ten feet away from Spencer this morning when he was taken?" Emily asked quickly cutting across Morgan who had opened his mouth to ask another undoubtedly intrusive question. He looked over at Emily, confused as to why she seemed to be on this girl's side.

"Yes, I had just gotten off the bus coming back from work. I work the graveyard shift at the hospital as an ER nurse." She continued as an explanation for her strange travel hours.

"And you just 'bumped' into Reid?" Morgan asked with this slightest amount of accusation under laying his question.

"Well, I- I was, I-" Charlie stuttered once again with her eye glued to the floor as her hands seemed to want to start a fire in her lap. She took a deep breath and said what she knew she would end up telling them anyway.

"I-was-trying-to-catch-up-with-him-because-I-had-wanted-to-ask-him-out-for-weeks-and-only-got-up-the-courage-to-ask-him-today." Charlie spat it all out on one tremendously fast and long breath. She had said it with her eyes closed.

_God, Morgan. You suck._ Emily thought, annoyed with his obliviousness to the poor girls discomfort and only made it worse.

"Wha'?" Morgan asked, astonished.

"I was going to ask him out." Charlie said slowly, trying to overcome the awkwardness, then continued on when she received no response. "On a date."

Morgan couldn't believe it. It was unfathomable that this girl- this_ gorgeous_ girl- liked Spencer. _Dr. Spencer Reid_. And not only did _she_ like _him_, _she_ was going to ask _him_ out. Trippy.

"Morgan, why don't you go get us some coffee?" Emily said interrupting his stunned silence as he tried to absorb the fact that the world seemed to have flipped over. She obviously thought she'd get further without him, and he didn't disagree. Minus his slight shutdown, he still had been a little rude and plus he was a guy and the whole 'I like the guy you work with thing' was just plain uncomfortable for Charlie and Morgan both.

Morgan simple walked away without a word, his shock still plastered to his face.

"Well, now that we have Lenny out of the way . . ." Emily joked, trying to ease the girl.

"Thank you." She giggled slightly at the _Of Mice and Men _reference, visibly relieved to have Morgan gone.

Emily smiled just as softly as she spoke to the girl. "Are you willing to allow me to do a cognitive interview with you?"

"Uh-yeah, sure. Whatever helps." Charlie said visibly less of everything than a moment ago, far calmer and it seemed, more determined now that this woman had offered her a way to actually help.

"Okay." Emily began "I want you to close your eyes for me and think back to this morning."

Charlie looked skeptically at Emily, but figured she'd dance around with a chicken on her head if it would help and closed her eyes without complaint.

"You just getting off the bus." Prentiss spoke very calmly and slowly, softly and almost monotonously. "You can hear all the sounds of the street. People talking, cars driving."

_She sounds like someone off a self help tape_, Charlie thought sarcastically. _Stop fooling around!_ She yelled at herself. _Focus. This maybe the only chance you have to help. You may know something that could save him._

"What do you smell?" Emily asked knowing that smell, though being the weakest sent, was the strongest memory trigger.

She had learned it from Reid.

"Coffee." Charlie replied softly, a small smile on her lips.

"Coffee?" Emily asked still softly though confused. She quickly turned around to see if Morgan had come back with the coffee she had sent him away for. He was standing with two cups of it in either hand, all the way across the room, watching Emily's progress with Charlie. As she looked over, she caught Morgan's eye who quickly nodded his head in her direction, silently asking her if she wanted to come over. Prentiss quickly shock her head and returned to Charlie when she began to speak.

"It's him. I can see him. He always has coffee." Charlie said, still smiling and nearly laughing at the end. Emily knew of course who Charlie meant but asked anyway.

"Who?"

"_Spencer."_

"What's he doing, Charlie?" Emily said, slightly more anxious knowing that she was about to hear firsthand what happened to Spencer.

"He's walking down the sidewalk. Going to work, I guess." Charlie said happily, innocently. Then it changed.

"No. I hear car tires screeching." Charlie said getting anxious, agitated. Emily stiffened. Charlie went on, "A van. It's stopped right beside Spencer."

"What color is it?" Emily asked completely uncontrolled now, knowing she had to get something, _anything_ for them to go on.

"Black. It's old. I don't know what type." Charlie said sadly.

"It's alright." Emily comforted her, taking back her control. "What's the license plate?" Emily asked forcing herself to be calm, but knowing that if they got the plate, they would definitely get at least something.

"There- there isn't one." Charlie said slowly thinking back. "It's blank." Charlie said shocked she hadn't noticed that before.

"It's alright. I'm here." Emily assured Charlie who was visibly becoming more upset. There was a beat and everything took off like a rocket.

"The door's open. There are three guys coming out." Charlie said breathlessly.

"What do they look like?" Emily asked instantly.

"I don't know! They're wearing ski masks." Charlie nearly cried, on the edge of a brake down. She went on, knowing it was all she could really do.

"Spencer reached for his gun, but two of them already have Spencer's arms behind his back." Charlie stopped and paused then spoke quietly in disgust. "I'm just standing there, screaming."

"Charlie, what's happing to Spencer?" Emily said strictly, making Charlie focus. Charlie gasped.

"They hit him." She said quietly. Emily's stomach dropped.

"What did they hit him with?" Emily asked, begging it to be nothing more than a fist.

"The other man- he punched him." Charlie said still quietly, sad, ashamed.

"They're dragging him to the van." She continued louder, trying to do the only job she could to contribute. "They threw him in. The other guys jump back in and-" Charlie stopped. "And their gone." She finished truly ashamed she couldn't do more now and hadn't done more then. She opened her eyes and looked at the agent across from her. She didn't look angry- she looked worry.

They were quiet.

"I'm sorry." Charlie said finally, too ashamed to me Emily's face.

"Hey, look at me." Emily said soothingly waiting to continue until Charlie finally meet her eyes and Emily stared right back.

"There is _nothing_ you could have done other than what you already have. You could not have stopped them." Emily said strongly keeping the gaze with Charlie. She needed her to understand- this wasn't her fault. Charlie tried to smile as Emily comforted her but it only came across as a sort of grimace.

Morgan came over then sensing the end of the interview. _Well, he's got good timing_, Emily thought. Emily stood up and took her coffee from Morgan and turned back to Charlie.

"Thank you, Charlie." Emily spoke sincerely. "You've been very helpful." In all the times she had said it before, never had Prentiss meant it more. Emily stuck out her hand and shook Charlie's as she stood. Morgan nodded to the girl and then the two turned to leave.

"Agents Morgan! Prentiss!" Charlie called after them, jogging the few steps the two had already taken separating them. "Will you call me? When you find out something? Or find him? Please." She asked, almost pleading.

"Of course." Emily said surprised at how much this whole mess truly was upsetting the girl. She watched as the girl dug through her purse and found a pen and scrap of paper. Morgan hung back while the girl scribbled her name and number and Prentiss took it from her. Charlie uttered her thanks and the two their goodbyes and Morgan and Emily left the station.

No sooner had the two gotten in the car then Morgan spoke on the stunning insight they had received back there.

"Well, we better get Reid back soon cause it looks like he's in for some fun." He said smirking, the still surprised as he put the keys in the ignition.

"You are such an idiot." Prentiss scoffed at him, still truly amazed by his stupidity.

"What?"

Emily continued to ignore him and his continued confusion until his phone rang.

"Hey, baby girl. What ch'a got?" Was his answer, though admittedly less cheerful than that that was typical. He pressed a button and suddenly the SUV was filled with Garcia's voice.

"Nothing!" She said livid. "His phone's either off or d- out of battery." She had stopped herself from saying the word that would have been typical for her in this situation, but this was Reid, not just some _situation_. And now the thought that she had ever used it in a situation remotely similar to this disgusted her.

"And that's not all!" She said purely loathing what was happening, if possible, increasing her anger. "I went to the director to get the authorization to activate Reid's tracer but he said Hotch had already spoken to him about it and I need to speak to him."

"And?" Morgan asked knowing that Garcia had undoubtedly already talked to Hotch as she was Garcia.

"He told me to call everyone and have them meet back at the BAU once you were done and he would tell all of us there." She scoffed.

"Well, did you-" Morgan began, clearly worried, needing to know immediately why Reid's tracer was not activated. Garcia interrupted him.

"Yes, of course I already grilled him! He said it just had to wait for everyone to hear and hung up!" Morgan could practically hear the flames coming off of Garcia crackling in the background.

"He's already back with Rossi. Hurry up and get here or he might not be here when finally do!" She fumed and hung up. Prentiss turned and looked over at Morgan with her mouth slightly agape. They didn't say anything as Morgan silently pressed down on the accelerator.

They need to get back.

Now.

* * *

Emily and Morgan practically burst out of the elevator and nearly ran across the bullpen with Garcia on their heels, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. To someone unaware of the situation, it might have appeared as though the three were racing each other to see who could get to the conference room fastest, where through the window could easily be seen Hotch, Rossi, JJ and Gideon.

"Okay? There! They're here!" Garcia nearly shouted at Hotch as Morgan quickly shut the door so the rest of the building wouldn't hear. Hotch had both hands on the edge of the table as he bent over it, his head bowed. Garcia didn't care about this uncharacteristic pose though- she needed answers. Now!

"Now, why am I not allowed to activate Reid's tracer?" Never had Morgan actually witnessed "the furry of a woman" until right now. And he- was scared.

"Because it's right here." Hotch said calmly, not faltering under Penelope's murderous gaze and not the least bit upset by her outburst. Rather he seemed understanding and his voice in comparison to Garcia's of a moment ago, was near a whisperer.

It was silent.

Garcia's mouth fell open, Emily's eyes shot up into her hair, Rossi looked at the side of Hotch's face as if he were lying to him. JJ, and Gideon didn't show any emotion. Both refusing to look at the team. JJ bit her thumb and looked at the ground while Gideon hung his head and looked in his lap. But Morgan spoke.

"What?" He said it slow, precise, strong- daring Hotch to lie to him.

Hotch took out of his pocket two evidence bags at the same time that Gideon brought one up from under the table that had been sitting in his lap.

Hotch set the two down on the table with a small tap as the metal of a small blood covered tracer hit the wood. Beside it, another bag with a familiar bloodied purple scarf hit the table with a soft thud.

Garcia gasped aloud. "No." she choked, tears already on the brim of her lashes.

Rossi eyes widened beyond proportion and glued to the objects on the table.

"Oh, man." Morgan breathed out, appalled that Hotch wasn't lying to him. He would had preferred it- anything to this.

Emily's hand shot to her mouth as she mutter "God." Behind it then pinched her lips. They all gazed horrified, transfixed on what was in front of them, the pieces of their friend.

Hotch started to speak then. Finally an explanation. Answers.

"The box Gideon came in with this morning had Reid's scarf and tracer in it." Everyone listened in silence, hanging on Hotch's every word. Everyone except Gideon.

"The lab has already confirmed the blood as Reid's." Garcia let out a small sob as Hotch continued on, forcing himself to tell them what they needed to know. They had a right to know, all of them.

"There were no finger prints and no DNA other than Reid's." Hotch said it all as if it was rehearsed, trying not to forget a line, no feeling behind it. He was trying to compartmentalize. He paused, failing to hide his emotion this time as the horror could be seen on his face when he continued.

"There- were small strips of- internal tissue on Reid's scarf. Like they had been- scraped off." He could barely get the words out of his mouth. "Which leads us to believe," Hotch continued on, forcing himself to finish, "that, whoever took Reid, pulled out his tracer by hand."

Rossi's head snapped back to Hotch's, disbelief clearly readable on his face.

JJ had silent tears falling down her face.

Morgan stared at the bags on the table, mouth open in silent horror.

Emily still had her hand pinching her mouth closed and was blinking a lot, trying to push the tears back with sheer force.

Gideon was staring down at his own hands resting in his lap.

Garcia's mouth hung open in a silent screaming sob as tears raced down her face. She walked forward until she reached the table. Only then did Hotch finally look up. She reached about her hand and grabbed the bag holding Spencer's scarf and took it in both hands and caressed the plastic with her thumbs.

Hotch watched her as she looked down at the scarf in her hands. Blood was clinging to in from the inside and as she caressed it, the small droplets were moved around and forced together in time with her thumbs' movements. It was starting to congeal and turn dark. Reid had been taken nearly three hours ago.

They were still nowhere.

"Enough." Hotch said sharply, straightening up.

"What?" JJ asked quietly.

"We are not doing _anything_ by simply standing around and worrying about Reid." Hotch said a stern look on his face.

"Hotch-" Morgan began shocked, but was cut across.

"We need to focus. We need to be more than one hundred percent here and now if we are going to help Reid." Hotch wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

There was a beat.

"Your right." Emily said sharply, her compartmentalizing finally kicking in. Her arm was suddenly at her side and the tears in her eyes, though still present, were no longer in threat of falling. "What do we have?" She said. To business.

That seemed to do it. Suddenly, it was like a wave had washed over all of them. They were here and they were determined. Garcia sniffed and that was the end of the tears- for now.

"Nothing from the apartment. Reid's place was as freakishly organized as always." Rossi said off the back, begging for some sense of normality. It seemed to work, a few smirked.

"No neighbors noticed anything odd. One elderly man was able to confirm what Prentiss said about Reid walking to work." Hotch said, adding anything he could. Everything was precious.

"We're looking at potentially four unSubs." Emily sighed, repulsed at the words coming out of her own mouth.

"What?" It was Hotch's turn to be totally shocked as his head snapped towards Emily.

"The witness told me three men wearing ski masks jumped out of an 'old' black van, grabbed Reid, punched him in the face, and sped off." Emily said not too happy about the information and lack of it that she was giving the others.

"The three that jumped out and one to drive." Gideon muttered aloud still not looking up. The others, though taking notice of this being the first words he spoke, did not spare Gideon a glance.

"Plates?" Garcia perked up hopeful, knowing that if she had a starting point she _would_ find the sons of bitches that did this.

"None." Emily replied flatly.

"Damn!" Morgan shouted and turned away in frustration.

"What about the box?" JJ asked, speaking up finally and stepping out from the corner.

"The box wasn't labeled and delivered to Gideon." Hotch began glancing at the said box in front of Gideon, when something that had been bugging him from the beginning finally came forward.

"When do you get the box, Gideon?" Hotch asked, looking straight at his ex-colleague. He suddenly realized it was far more than one thing that had been bugging him. _When did Gideon get the box? When did Gideon get here? How'd he get here so fast. Why didn't he call instead? Where had Gideon been this whole time?_

" I- got the box at 7:18. I remember because it woke me up. Someone had rung my doorbell and left it on the porch. By the time I got out of bed and got down there, whoever brought it was gone." Gideon said slowly, confused and trying to see where this was going.

"Reid was taken off the street at 7:06. That's only twelve minuets. Either the group broke apart after they raced off- or they were heading your direction when the left." Hotch said looking straight at Gideon.

Morgan asked the question on everybody's tongue.

"Gideon, where have you been?" He asked glazed over with the smallest amount of disgust at the old man.

The room vibrated in waves of silence as they all waited watching Gideon, waiting for the truth knowing it would be the only thing he said.

"I never left." He finally said quietly looking at all of them together. "I've been living on East Boulevard. Don't worry Garcia," He added taking in the small opening and closing of her mouth, knowing she was about to talk. "You didn't miss anything. I knew you'd look for me so in every sense of the phrase I went 'off-the-grid'." He smiled lightly at her and she seemed to relax, however little.

"All this time?" Morgan asked, clearly angry though quiet. As Gideon nodded his head, Hotch stepped in to stop it from going any further.

"Later, Morgan. Right now, our focus is on Reid." He said looking sternly at Morgan who reluctantly let it go only after Reid was mentioned.

"That's how you got here so fast." Emily stated, thinking out loud, somewhat soothed she finally got answers to questions of her own.

"Yes." Gideon said simply looking at her.

"Why didn't you call?" JJ asked.

"Because it was Reid." Gideon said staring straight at her, as if he hadn't really understood the question. The all understood Gideon's response. It _was_ Reid. They would all do anything for Reid. Especially Gideon, above anyone. He would die for Reid. Which was something Hotch was worried he would get the chance to do and would take.

"The box being delivered to Gideon tells us what?" Hotch asked them all, try to see every angle hoping for one other than the one he saw.

"He's the target." Morgan said.

"Of what?" JJ asked

"Revenge." Emily answer quickly, a little worry visibly in her eyes.

"From a group?" Rossi interjected, doubting the possibility.

"Maybe. Recruitment?" Hotch asked still scrapping at the bottom of the barrel.

"It said on the box, 'Marco'. What does it mean?" JJ asked, hoping it would help.

"Polo?" Morgan asked back wondering if the others thought the same.

"The game?" Emily asked skeptically. Morgan shrugged.

"They're the players, and Reid's the prize." Gideon said, hands clasped in front of him on the table, thinking out loud just as always.

"No." Hotch said suddenly, deep in thought. Everyone turned confused.

"They're seeking you, Gideon." Hotch said finally with the aura of a dawning realization. "You're Polo, they're Marco."  
"I don't understand." Gideon said, clearly confused and looking it.

"Who is the one person you would come out of hiding for all these years?" Hotch asked finally making Gideon see.

"Reid." Gideon said quietly looking at the scarf still in Penelope's hand.

"But wait!" Emily interjected. "If they knew where to find you to give you a package, why would they take Reid to draw you out into the open?" She asked understanding Hotch but still not having all the ends meet.

They were all quiet for a long time. Lost. Thinking.

"I don't know." Hotch finally sighed. They were quiet again for a moment longer.

"Alright," Hotch began, "We are going to go through every case Gideon ever worked and try to find anyone that would want revenge. UnSubs, relative, the works."

"That's-" Garcia began, horrified yet again.

"Hundreds of files.' Morgan finished for her, sighing. It was all they could do, and be damned he was going t do it.

"Garcia, I need you to do everything you can with the van." Hotch said in a slightly softer tone knowing how emotional she was. Garcia nodded her head curtly and turned on her heal and headed for her lair.

It was silent yet again. Finally Emily broke it.

"Hotch-" she said, trailing off. They all knew. They had _nothing_.

"I know." Hotch said softly. It was overwhelmingly hard not to just burst out screaming at the moment. "If it is revenge, they'll contact us, and then we'll know for sure." He said slowly knowing what his carefully chosen words meant. If it was revenge, the unSubs would contact them, undoubtedly with proof that they had Reid. If it was revenge, they would also make sure Gideon saw it. They all knew that meant nothing good for Reid.

"And if it's not?" Morgan asked, dreading his own question. Hotch sighed.

"The least we can do is try to find them." He said before turning and walking away. He was going to get files. The sooner he had something in his hands, the sooner he would feel like he was doing _something_, and the less likely that he would punch something. He came back to the room ten minutes later with three boxes, and two other agents behind him with three apiece too. Then they left.

"We'll start with these."

* * *

It was an hour later and they were all drowning in files, buried in the towering, teetering piles on the table, the floor- everywhere. But they were nowhere. They had nothing. Not from lack of trying though. Everyone had a good ten files in their lap or in their hands and then another stack of twenty in front of them. But still they could find nothing concrete. Every last file could have been a potential unSub. So far, they had only excluded ten due to the fact that the unSub was either dead or incarcerated and had no living family.

The stack of possibles was only growing as time ticked by, stretching up to the ceiling and multiplying in width. The room was completely silent but for the turning of pages, the flapping of files and the occasional grunt as someone moved positions. The growing frustration was pliable, literally sticking to their skin only increasing it tenfold until everyone was afraid to speak least someone snap.

If truth be told everyone was surprised they had lasted so long, but they knew it was only a matter of time. They all knew that they were gaining nothing from their search. They were fighting a losing battle- but it was the only battle they could fight. They couldn't just wait, they had to be doing something, _anything_. So they drove on bulldozing through the mountains of paper, reading until their eyes burned and went bloodshot. At which point they stopped, got a coffee and sat back down for another round in silence.

At least it was silent- until the slowly growing muffled sounds of fast clicking heels could be heard from behind the door.

Garcia came bursting in and without a word, slammed the door just as quickly shut, drew the blinds and grabbed the clicker for the screen off the side table, while everyone's eyes followed her around the room, no one moving. Silence. She looked up and pointed the clicker at the screen- it was only then that the all saw the fresh tears. She clicked the remote and immediately everyone turned to face the screen finally tearing their eyes away from the disgruntled Garcia.

It was static at first, for nearly three seconds, then as immediately as it came it was gone and in its place was the view of what looked like the inside of a warehouse. The floor was concrete and there were support pillars of metal with giant bolts along the side and dirty, grime covered windows against the wall the camera was facing. There was nobody in the frame.

The camera stayed trained on the wall while they all listened to the silence.

Slowly their straining ears began to hear the sounds of a struggle. Grunting and shuffling, a few odd slapping sounds. It was growing and getting louder. It was getting closer. Closer to the camera. Suddenly a man wearing a ski mask came into the frame from the left. He had his arms around the chest of a tall gangly man that he was dragging along with him into the frame. The man was blindfolded and had duct tape over his mouth.

The team seemed to take a collective gasp as one. They all were on the edge, literally. Prentiss looked like she was about to fall out of her chair. They had absolutely no _clue_ as to what was about to happen. They could only guess.

They watched as, who the team knew to be Reid, struggled against the man, pulling and yanking away from him as the man tug harder on him. Reid grunts from his effort were muffled through the tape as he made no progress against the man, it being rather difficult with his hands tied behind his back that the team could now visibly see between Reid's back and the man's chest. His feet, too, were tied as they could see them dragging behind in his wake as the man pulled him to the center of the frame. They were bloody- as were his wrists. Undoubtedly he had try to escape them already.

That wasn't the only blood they saw, either. As the man gave a particularly hard tug against Reid, his body stretched upward and they were able to clearly see the heavy, wet stain on Reid's shirt right above his hipbone.

The man, once satisfied of his position in the frame, turned Reid to face the camera and forced him to his knees, to which Reid grunted again. The man reached behind his back, took out a gun and jammed it against the crook of Reid's neck. The force that the man pressed the gun into Reid's neck made him hiss through the tape and lean forward slightly.

Everyone in the room stiffened. They had no way of knowing anything that this unSub was about to do. They had no profile whatsoever. It was possible that this man had sent them a video of Reid's coldblooded murder and they were about to watch it right before their eyes. This might not be revenge at all. A message? It certainly had they're attention.

"Marco, _'ex'_-Agent Gideon." The man said calmly, smugly- like he had just announced checkmate. They could practically see the man's smile through the mask he wore.

"You're going to play whether you want to or not, because I know you." The man continued, almost jubilantly. "Oh, I know." The man taunted. "You cannot resist my _prize_." The man said the last word with sarcastic wonder as he jabbed the gun harder into Reid's neck, who was once again pushed forward by the force and let out of muffled gasp of pain.

The man chuckled.

"Why don't you smile for the camera, Spence?" The man said as if he was talking about something as innocent as the weather as he looked down at the bound man. He reached around Reid's face and ripped the tape off roughly. Spencer was unable to hold back the gasp of pain.

"Come on. Smile!" The man said again, thoroughly enjoying this as he grabbed a handful of the kid's hair and pointed his face in the direction of the camera forcefully.

"Gideon! Don't come-!" Spencer began, nearly yelling but was cut off by a punch to the side of his face so forceful, it nearly knocked him out of the side of the shot completely.

"Ah, Spencer!" The man playfully scolded him as he grabbed Reid's hair again forcing him up and slapped the tape back over his mouth. "You spoiled my surprise." The man said, mocking disappointment.

"Well, Gideon. The rules are simple." Gideon had eyes only for the masked stranger.

"I will give you a time and place to meet three days from now. You will be alone. You will be unwired. You will be unarmed. You will be on time." The man said the list strongly, strictly, demanding. No room for error. No more play. It was all business.

"Should all of my demands be met, you will receive your _prize_." The man said, going back to mocking and taunting. The man straightened. He paused. And slowly tilted his head to one side. It was horrifying.

The man then spoke again slowly with growling happiness in his voice.

"In exchange for you."

Everyone was dead silent. Their eyes still glued to the screen, physically unable to look away. Reid was still on the ground, kneeling. He was breathing heavy and slightly uneven from his latest strike. There was blood slowly dripping down his face from his nose and on to the floor with the softest of splats. His head was bowed- like he was ashamed, like he had failed.

"Well, there you have it." The man said conversationally like it was the end of a sad story and he was try to change the subject, breaking the trance.

"Three days. You show up or I kill him." The man listed it off like it was a kind of wrap-up, a summary.

The man turned to the side looking like he was about to walk away, then stopped and jerked back like he had thought better of it or forgotten something and turned back to the camera, taking a step forward.

"Oh, and you'll be receiving how shall I say- 'incentive,' every day until I contact you with the meeting arrangements. Just to make sure you show up." The smile on the man's face audible in his taunt. The man actually laughed then, turned around and brought his fist backwards completely behind his back, then thrust it forward slicing through the air until it made contact with Reid's face. The force this time did have him leaving the shot completely. The last they saw of him before the screen went black.

* * *

**A/N: Ta Da! Extra long! Hope it was worth the wait. Once again, I'm REALLY sorry, and I promise that I'll start writing the next chapter tomorrow- well today technically. So far, hands down my favorite chapter. But for the love of God, it took me nearly an hour trying to figure out how I wanted to start it. Please let me know what you think! Especially about the whole Charlotte=Charlie thing. I actually really like it and thought it was super cute, but if you don't you can hate me. Free country- supposedly. **

**ANYWAY. . . !**

**I know right now it's still a little bit confusing and you can guess and stuff to me if you want (but I won't tell you if your right), but I promise it well make at least a bit more sense next chapter. That being said- I have two options here. Now don't be bias but- I can either have the team guess correctly about what's going down OR I can have them get halfway there. You other writers know what I mean I'm sure, but I don't want to give the ending away with this. That being said don't just vote "Have 'em guess right" cause you want to know NOW but because you think they're that awesome and could figure it out of visa versa. Let me know!**

**If the above paragraph really didn't make any sense- just ignore it. **

**More to come! SOONER than this last time! Scouts honor. . . though I never really was a scout sooooo- . . . **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Wow! You guys are TRULY THE BEST **_**EVER!**_** I think I'm very close to finally decide on exactly what I plan to do with the whole Charlie thing that should make both sides happy- maybe. I am overwhelmed with everyone's tears jerking, loving comments about my writing and story. I truly cannot tell you how much it means to me. I am honored and touched and wanted to send out my heartfelt thanks to all of you! You make this worth wild!**

**Well, enough being sappy.**

**Due to a slight outburst of a small comment based food fight (you know who you are ;) ), I got my butt into gear and wrote and exceedingly awesome chapter! :D**

***TOOT! TOOT! TOOT!***

**Oh, don't mind that- it's just me tooting my own horn. And seeing as how though I did get this chapter out sooner than last time, it was only by a few hours, so I should really shut up. ;)**

**OH! And I just found out that the quote "awesome happy faces" my computer was creating in my word documents weren't showing up. Tear. :( So! I returned to the old school emoticons of mine to brighten yall's day. ;) Haha! My computer says "yall" isn't a word.**

**MOVING ON!**

**SHOUT OUTS TO: ****PinkHimeLacus, ladora, roses-have-torns911, LindiJo, donttouch, 68luvcarter (great minds think alike. ;) ), MissdaVinci77, lucy62, Animalker, Elaxandrius, Maria Rianki, Rainsaber, zindiq, WallofWeird, SpenceMeRied (not spelt wrong), Rasgara, 1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG (quite a name), Sue1313, Reidy, purplerayz, morgo7kc, mythepoeia, Klapollo88, shannonisthebestest, momiji'sunusedhalo, KASEY64, TellyAddict, Ryu Waru, SugarDetective, jimmy-barnes-13, fallfromreality, littel devil 1, YGOGenerations4ever, danicalif80, morgo7kc, CherryBerryB, and Eriks angel 15. ;)**

**Concerning this chapter:**** More answers and more Reid whump, so be forewarned. This chapter and story, as stated in the last chapter, is from here on out given a rating of T+. By Fanfiction guide lines, that means the writing "contains content not suitable for children. Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor course language, and minor suggestive adult themes." Got it? So no suing. You've been warned. Actually as this goes on, the rating will increase to M for "strong violence and language" and according to the rating guidelines, should only be read by mature teens of the age of 16 or older. But how are they gonna stop ya? ;) Just don't freak out on me. And once again- ABSOLUTELY **_**NO**_** SLASH! **_**EVER!**_

"**Well, there it 'tis!" **_*personal __**SOLO**__ shout out if you tell me what film that quote is from ;)*_

* * *

"How do these bastards get my email?"

Garcia was the first to break the silence drowning them all, and she was pissed. It was an understandable question and an intriguing one. Even though Garcia had asked it, she knew it really wouldn't be that hard to get someone's email. Granted she had six different ones, but it was as easy to breathe as it was to hack into online shopping records and look up someone's personal information. _I'll have to work on a program to fix that later_, Garcia thought.

"What does he mean 'incentive'?" JJ spoke up from the thick silence finally, slowly and clearly horrified at the possibilities of the man's word choice.

"He means he's going to hurt Reid." Gideon said simply, looking up staring straight ahead, staring through the bloody scarf still in Garcia's hand.

"And there's nothing we can do to stop it for three days." He sighed his voice breaking, hanging his head again, hiding the tears welling at the brim of his eyes threatening to overflow.

"But why?" Emily asked quietly. She was upset undeniably by this revelation but the profiler in her still needed to understand.

"This isn't about Reid." Hotch answered slowly, precisely. This was exactly what he had feared from the beginning and there was no denying it now. They had to understand, see it the right way. Only then could they get Reid back.

"This is about Gideon. They want him. And they know that by hurting Reid, they're hurting Gideon. They're taunting him by sending him the 'incentives' knowing he is helpless to do anything to stop it. In layman's terms, torturing Reid tortures Gideon." Hotch went on, repulsed by his own in depth understanding of the situation. How different was he really from the men that took Spencer if he could understand them so well. _It's your job_, he reminded himself. But there was still that tug in the back of his mind always skeptic.

"Why send them to Garcia, though?" Morgan interjected, hurting for Reid, determined but confused all the same.

"They knew." Gideon said slowly without looking up, loudly, _angrily_- like he was repeatedly trying to teach a toddler two plus two and not lose his temper. Morgan knew Gideon wasn't mad at him, but at the situation, his helplessness. He was still surprised by it. "They _knew_ I would be here. The second I got the package, they knew I would come here to see for myself." Gideon sighed knowing there was no other way to see this- everything.

It was his fault. Inescapably.

"Maybe." Emily said as if she were thinking out loud.

"What? What is it?"Morgan prodded her, knowing that she was holding part of her thinking back.

"What if they did more than guess?" Emily said thoughtfully, truly wondering if what she was thinking was possible, let alone how furious she would be if it turned out to be true.

"What?" Hotch said shortly, seeming to understand where she was going, and was scared by it.

"What if someone told them? What if they have someone on the inside? Here?" Emily asked rhetorically, already pulsing with fury at the logic of it and how it explained so much.

Everyone was dead silent, absorbing the terrible suggestion and possible truth. Someone in this building, who worked with them, talked to them, was responsible for Reid being taken. No. No, they hadn't confirmed it yet. Undoubtedly if they had, someone in this building would already be dead judging by the state Morgan was in. His arms were tightly crossed over his chest, as his eyebrows dug into his face while he fought to control his breathing which was increasing rapidly.

"Think about it." Emily continued when no one answered her horrible realization. "It explains how they knew Gideon was here. How they knew about the tracers. How they knew to take Reid!" Emily's volume was increasing in loathing at this still unknown person and the thrill of finally getting somewhere like in any other case. _This isn't just any other case_, she though angrily to herself. _This is Reid_.

"It can't be coincidence." Gideon muttered to himself, almost asking it as though wishing it wasn't true.

Hotch finally spoke softly after long thought and acceptance.

"We can't rule it out. It's a possibility." Hotch address all the others who hadn't realized until he spoke that they had been waiting for _him_ to say something. If _he_ didn't believe it, then _they_ didn't. It simply wasn't true.

"God, damn it!" Morgan shouted at Hotch words, uncrossing his arms and turning around to face the wall. Maybe it would be easier not to hit something if he wasn't looking at anyone while they were talking, at least he would be less likely to hit them.

"Okay, this video gives us something." Hotch said blasting in to full-on leader mode, thinking, trying to solve the case. Just a case. If that was what he had to say to himself to shut up his screaming mind and _think_, then he was going to do it.

Everyone in the room stared at Hotch, empty, lost. They clearly didn't understand, no see, what he had. They were worried, undeniably, and it was messing with their ability to think.

"Come on, guys!" He said trying to rally them out of it and rushing on speed long, he continued. "Reid was only taken," he stopped to glance at his watch, "four hours ago! They could only have taken him so far!" The room's atmosphere physically lightened. Hope.

"Okay so let's say they've been driving the whole four hours at at least 70 miles an hour. Hell, 75 to be safe." Morgan said, trying to visualize, if he could just think.

"Garcia look up all abandoned or empty warehouses and buildings within a," Emily paused to do some quick math "300 mile radius of where Reid was taken."

Garcia quickly nodded, finally setting down the bloody evidence that was once Reid's, before she spoke. "How did they get the tracer out?" She asked looking at the second bag on the table. "They scanners you need to find it have to be registered and they're tracked themselves! How could a bunch of psychos get one and no one notice?" Garcia asked appalled, though not really expecting an answer.

"Can you look into that, as well?" JJ asked from beside Hotch. She was still shaken from the video and was physically closing herself off- she had both arms wrapped around her stomach.

"Baby, I can do anything." Garcia told her lacking her chipper grin that was replaced by sheer determination. She knew JJ wasn't insinuating that Garcia couldn't do it, but merely didn't want to over load her with work, especially given the stressfulness of the situation.

"Good." Hotch told her, inside jumping up and down that they had something, something that would actually help.

"Everyone. We have to be careful." He told them strictly looking each and every one of them in the eye as he spoke. They all returned the same look of determination and understanding. "If they do have someone on the inside, it would be too easy for them to inform Reid's captures of where we are in the case if we let our guard down. Do not tell _anyone_ _anything_ about this case. As far as I am aware, only the Director knows that Reid is missing besides us. We need to keep it that way. I'll inform him of the situation." Hotch received a few nods and blinks and knew they understood, even if they didn't say it.

"What are the rest of us supposed to do?" Morgan bluntly asked Hotch, knowing that it had only been Garcia given a job. Everyone was taken aback. They had just crashed into a wall going 100 miles an hour and never seen it coming. What the _hell_ where they supposed to do? As the terrible truth set in, it was visible. Emily's mouth fell open, JJ's eyes had never been so wide, Garcia looked between a mixed of scared and abashed, knowing she had the one job, as she glanced between Morgan and Hotch like it was a tennis match. They _had_ to be able to do something. They had to have _something_ to do. They just _had_ to! They couldn't just not do _anything_. They needed to help or at least feel like they were- even if it was hopelessly grabbing at strings while they scoured through yet more files.

Hotch was saved the displeasure of answering Morgan with the dreaded truth by JJ's phone. The room froze as the tension spread through the air like a toxic gas while they listened in on the half of the conversation they could hear.

"This is Agent Jareau . . . It does? You're certain? . . . Where? . . . We'll be there in ten." JJ ended the call by shutting the phone then without goodbye and turned to the others, eyes wide and ears perked. Good news? Well it definitely wasn't bad because JJ would have shown some sort of emotion. Negative emotion. And she looked, she looked- _happy?_

"That was local PD." She said, the slightest hint of a smile creeping up onto her face and into her words. "They just got report of a burning black van over in an alley off of Mulberry Road. They said that it matched the witness' description."

Everyone was unnaturally still while she spoke. As if they moved they wouldn't be able to hear or JJ would stop talking. Once it had soaked in everyone was off faster than a rocket, even before Hotch started talking to everyone.

"You'll do that." Hotch said, answering Morgan's previously hanging question. "Morgan, Emily and JJ. Go to Mulberry and check it out. Garcia, get working on those warehouses." Hotch said stiffly. Order, they all needed order, routine, normal. And it was slipping away. Garcia turned on a dime, departing down the hall with the steady rapid clicking of her baby-blue powdered high heels with pink bows. Morgan was quickly on her heels, not needing telling twice, Emily striding behind him followed by a dashing JJ. It was as if they were seeing who could get out of the doors of the building first without a scene.

Hotch sighed as they all left, holding the table with one hand while the other pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew what was coming. It had to be done. Gideon was still in the chair. He hadn't gotten up from it since he had first sat down to review files. _He has to make the first move_, Hotch thought. He _has to see he's in the wrong._ So he waited. Nearly an entire three minutes. He couldn't budge, it had to be Gideon. His speaking up would be Hotch's proof and Gideon knew it but he had to. Hotch sighed and brought up his head and lowered his hand and looked at Gideon, who _finally_ spoke.

"Hotch . . ." Gideon began, but Hotch cut him off. If he listened to Gideon he was likely to change his mind.

"I can't, Gideon. I won't." Hotch said simply. They both knew what they meant.

"Hotch, please." Gideon pleaded quietly, eyes still brimming with his unshed tears.

"I told you, Gideon. From the very beginning. There are limitations!" Hotch was nearly shouting in his frustration, not at Gideon, but at the situation, everything else and his own helplessness.

"You're a civilian now." Hotch breathed practically begging for Gideon to understand, to change his mind. "I cannot allow you to trade yourself for someone else- even if it is Reid!" Hotch angrily added as Gideon opened his mouth to argue. Hotch closed his eyes and breathed, praying for patience, for Gideon to understand. He had to- he just couldn't do this.

"Reid told you not to come." Hotch argued strongly, trying a different approach. "Do you have any idea how it would kill him if _anything_ ever happened to you?" Hotch continued, angry yet again, now starting to see Gideon's decision as a selfish one.

"Do you know how _guilty_ he would feel that you had given up your life for his?" Hotch fumed. Gideon was just sitting there with a blank face, absorbing Hotch's fury.

"You're practically his father!" Hotch shouted at the old man before him, trying _everything_ he could to make the man reconsider. He was still fighting with the silent man, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle. The man would not change his ever stubborn mind. But God damn it, he had to try!

"He's going to need you! We need you!" Hotch finally finished his furious rant, chest heaving from his shouting at the silent man.

It was silent for what felt like forever but couldn't have been more than thirty seconds. As the silence hung heavy on the two men, weighing Hotch down his angry quickly fading and Gideon just seeming to absorb it. They simply stared at each other.

"I won't let him die."

Gideon's words were cold and horse from the built up of unspent emotion. Determined was an understatement, it was more like it was simple acceptance in fact, destiny, unchangeable. It was going to happen. Inescapably.

Hotch breathed out deeply and closed his eyes in defeat knowing he had failed in his futile attempts. He didn't want to do this and it was likely that it wouldn't even work but he was desperate. He turned his side to Jason as he gripped the table with both hands again and bowed his head. Everything was just so fucked up. He lifted his head and opened his eyes looking dead ahead of him. He spoke in a strong and demanding tone of business, one he used every day, on every case.

"I'm placing you under 24 hour surveillance for your own safety. You are not to leave this building."

Gideon sat still in the chair staring at Hotch. After no more than three of the longest second Hotch had ever felt, he jumped out of the chair at last and stormed around the other side of the table across from Hotch, not even sparing him a glance and left the room at a brisk pace.

Hotch had closed his eyes as Gideon walked straight into his line of vision, not being able to even look at him after what he had just done to the man, and sighed yet again letting his head fall to the table underneath him again. It was a lot to handle. Too much? No. He had to handle it, even if he didn't think he could he had to, for everyone. He was the leader. By what right could he tell the others to keep it together if he couldn't?

Hotch breathed heavily, deep and slow forcing himself into a trance like calm. _We'll get him back_, he thought. _One way or another_, thinking back to Gideon's unwavering decision to give himself over to the unSubs in exchange for Reid.

"I'm sorry."

Hotch whispered to the silent empty room. He wasn't sure who or what his statement was directed at. Reid? Gideon? He was just sorry- so sorry.

For everything.

* * *

They didn't know he was awake. _Good_, he thought. It was a chance to listen in and maybe figure out something about what the hell was going on.

He felt the van turn sharply than lurch to a halt. He heard doors open then slam close and felt the van shake. He heard the door next to him slide open and felt the sun hit his face. It had been a very sunny and nice day early, ironic for the given situation, but now all he saw was the blackness flooding his eyes.

"Bring him." He heard the voice man that had taken out his tracer earlier say. _He's got to be the leader_, Spencer thought.

He felt two pairs of hands on him as he feigned unconsciousness. One pair grabbed his ankles and the other grabbed him under the arms. He felt the pressure of the van under him leave as he was carried through the air. He heard shuffling feet and slight grumble of small rocks or gravel. _Pavement_, Reid thought.

"Where's Arthur going?" Spencer heard one of the men carrying him ask.

"I gave him a job to do. He gonna meet back up with us. Now, shut up and put him in the car." The leader yelled at the man. Reid heard the man scoff at the leader's demanding like he didn't respect him but continued to carry Spencer to wherever he was taking him.

_They're switching vehicles,_ Reid thought, _great_.

Reid felt himself being placed somewhat gently into what he guessed was the trunk of an SUV, judging by the how far he was brought up, the narrowness and height of the space.

"Light it up boys!" The leader could be heard yelling cheerfully.

He heard the sloshing of liquid. The burning stench of gasoline reached his nostrils and he had to fight hard not to sneeze as the smell irritated his nose. He heard a faint clink of metal and then the roaring sound of rushing air and cackling flames. He felt the wave of heat hit him in the small explosion along with the choking stench of burning metal.

"Beautiful."

The leader was clearly a sick man, seeing pleasure in destruction and pain. _A sadist_, Reid thought. He was saved the horror of the group discovering he was awake from a coughing fit from the horrendous reek when the leader called out again.

"Let's go!"

The trunk door slammed down and Reid heard no more than the deafening silence of the sound canceling empty SUV. The doors were opened and the car shifted under the weight of multiple bodies situating themselves in the seats. The engine started up and the SUV started to rumble and vibrate.

"Don't talk until we get there, I don't want to chance him hearing anything." The leader demanded of the others. _Crap_, Reid thought. This guy was smarter than he originally gave him credit for.

And Reid heard nothing more.

* * *

The three agents arrived on the scene of the torched van only eight minutes after Detective Adams had called them.

"Agent Prentiss. Agent Morgan." He nodded at the two he had met earlier at the station when they came to question that girl. He smiled politely at the third blonde agent he had yet to know the name of.

"Detective." Prentiss greeted the man stiffly, tense from the scene that she itch to search behind the man in front of her. "You know Agent Morgan. " The two men shook hands. "And this is Agent Jareau." Agent Prentiss indicating the pretty agent to her right.

"Nice to meet you." Adams said, shaking her hand as well.

"Well," Adams said breaking the awkward silence as he tried to make nice only to see they wanted to get straight to it. Adams turned his back on them and started walking towards the charred ruins of what was once a vehicle, a sign for them to follow as he continued to speak to them.

"The blaze got called in at about 7:21 this morning, and the fire department has been working on it ever since." Adams said stopping in front of the pile of blacked metal as the small group gathered around. "They finally got it under control and have just cleared it for CSI. So far nobody 'round here saw or heard anything."

Indeed the scene was crawling with personnel. The men in the gigantic yellow suits and helmets were rolling up hose and packing in to the flaming red engine right up to the curb. CSI were just beginning to gather together their kits and heading over to the once upon a time, van.

"Why weren't we called sooner?" JJ asked, slightly annoyed.

"We couldn't even tell what was burning for the first hour. Then I figured I'd wait to call you until you would at least be allowed to view the van. They were taking their time with the fire and gave it a huge birth because they were worried about the gas tank exploding. Once they deemed it no longer a threat I called you." Adams said defensively.

Prentiss simply nodded her understanding. Morgan handed her and JJ a pair of gloves he had just gotten from the CSI that had approached behind them and silently handed them over. They immediately put them on and began scouring through the frame of the van for any evidence.

"I really don't think you guys will find much of anything in there." Adams told the agents as two of them began to lean into the back of the decimated van and one in the front. "This thing is totaled. You won't get anything in here to hold up in court." Adams said innocently looking in after the agents, interested.

Emily knew Adams was just trying to help them and save them sometime but it didn't stop her from answering him with a bit of bite in her words.

"We don't need it to. We need answers."

"Right." Adams said dropping it and physically backing off.

"Damn." Morgan muttered as he took in the site of a baked in stain, so dark brown it was nearly black. "Be sure you get a sample of that and put it on rush." Morgan told the CSI woman behind him, who quickly nodded and took a picture of the stain, seeming to be worried that Morgan was going to move something before she could document it.

Morgan was 98 percent positive that the dark was a blood stain but refused to believe it was Reid's until he had definitive proof from the lab. It was after all a somewhat large stain.

JJ heard Emily whistle at the CSI guy on her side of the van from the back, and leaned back to find her pointing at something inside the van for the man to take a picture of. He quickly focused on whatever it was and clicked a frame. Emily reached back into the van, her whole upper half disappearing from JJ's view.

"What is it?" She asked the hidden woman.

Prentiss replied simply by standing up straight again out of the van in JJ's sight, dangling a piece of- _something_ between her thumb and index finger. It was long and was already but definitely was now black and seemed to have a handle, but was now clearly distorted. JJ looked on at the foreign object confused by Emily's expression.

"What is-?" JJ began, but Emily cut across her.

"First thing that comes to mind. Go." Emily said quickly and harshly at her.

"Uh- a metal detector?" JJ asked not sure where Emily was going, and surprised by how quick her own response was.

"That's what I thought." Prentiss muttered to herself, bringing the object closer to her eyes and bending down over it for a better look. "Morgan?" She called to the man on the other side of the van, who was now looking in the front passenger seat.

"Hmm?"

He leaned back from the front so that he could see through the side door to Emily. His face turned from questioned interest to concerned confusion at the sight of the object in Emily's hand.

"Is that a metal detector?" He asked her surprised, walking the two steps back so that he was now wholly visible.

"That's what we were thinking." Emily told him as she handed over the wrecked object to his outstretched hand for his own examination.

Morgan started at the object a moment longer, turning it in his hands, looking at it from every angle, then turned around to the same CSI woman behind him and placed it in an 'evidence' bag for her just as his phone rang.

"Talk to me, baby." Morgan answered, walking away from the ruble the others quickly coming around the van to follow him to devour any news. "Tell me something to make me happy." Morgan pleaded.

"Oh, my favorite chocolate guardian, negatory. I'm afraid I have naught." They heard Garcia's typically cheery voice through the speaker on Morgan's phone as one of sadness and apology. "On the contrary, I think I figured out how they found Reid's tracer." She said tragically.

"Tell me, sugar." Morgan sighed, not really caring to know but needing to.

"Well," Garcia began talking rapidly as she always when dishing out discoveries. "I looked into the scanner records and all are currently in the states they are registered to. There aren't even any registered to Virginia other than the ones that the FBI has, and they're all accounted for."

"And?" Emily added knowing there was more.

"And-" Garcia hesitated, not really wanting to tell them what she found out. "I've been doing some research and I found out that the amount of metal in the tracers is strong enough to trigger a sensitive enough metal detector." Garcia finished worried knowing it was far easier to get hands on a simple metal detector.

At the words of Garcia, Emily's mouth fell up and she stared meaningfully at a fear frozen JJ who had closed her eyes and a cursing Morgan.

"Damn."

"What? What is it?" Garcia's worried voice could be heard coming from the phone. Emily was the first to regain composure and answer the fearful technical analyst.

"We found it." She said annoyed, furious at the people that had done this.

"Oh my God." Garcia gasped. "I can't believe they would actually do something like this. It's so primitive and not sterile. It would have really hurt." She finish, her voice catching as she thought of the pain Reid must have been in when the tracer was pulled from him.

"He's strong, baby. And don't worry. We _are_ going to find him." Morgan reassured her, noting the emotion in her voice. "What about the warehouses?" Morgan pushed.

"Nearly done. Still getting background. I'll brief everyone when you get back." Garcia said calming down, settling back into her element. Information. Facts. Safe.

"Yeah, alright." Morgan sighed realizing there was nothing more to do here and they might as well head back. Emily nodded her head understandingly as Morgan spared her a look. "We're on our way back now. Be there soon."

"See ya, sugar." Garcia said small-ly after the dismal conversation.

The three Agents trooped back to the SUV they arrived in, shoulders drooped in defeat at the new depressing revelations, knowing only more was to come.

* * *

"Come on, Richard! You don't need to that!" He yelled at the man who had single handedly name himself as head jackass of this whole . . . _shit!_ The man was scrunched down on the cement next to kid's head on the floor where he had thrown him when Richard had them take the kid out of the Escalade, before they made the first video. Richard was forcing large headphones onto the kid's protesting head. He was fighting Richard, turning his head left and right.

"Stop struggling!" Richard yelled at him then struck the kid, dazing him enough to fit the headphones over his head easily.

"Jesus." He muttered turning away from the disgusting scene before him as Richard stood up from the kid and started to talk to him- well yell.

"Come on, Ian!" He protested. "You _agreed_ to this! We all agreed to this."

"I agreed to getting Gideon!" Ian fired back, pointing to the door of the warehouse and outside where the said man was. Not here.

"This was the only way!" Richard argued.

Ian rushed forward into Richard's face and swore he saw him back down infinitesimally as the man started straight back at him. The others stared on at the scene playing out before them with concern.

"You know _damn_ well it wasn't!" Ian whispered fuming.

Richard's face of stone abruptly turned soft as he knew exactly what Ian was talking about and why he was whispering. He didn't trust the others. He didn't trust anyone anymore. Richard didn't back away from Ian but lowered his as he continued the argument in hushed hated tones.

"You know why I did this."He told the man before him radiating hateful heat.

"I-" Ian began at a lost. He did know why but didn't like it.

"You agreed!" Richard yelled again.

Ian was silent as he thought trying to find something that could change the situation.

"We don't have to do this." He whispered against Richard's shouting.

"We are going to do this!" Richard shouted, backing up and turning in a circle with his arms out addressing Ian along with all the others watching the exchange, looking at each of them as he spoke. He wasn't asking but telling. He walked slowly back into Ian's face, angrily looking down on the man.

"You know what will happen if you don't." He hissed pronouncing every word heavily. He raised his eye brows with a sickeningly twisted smile on his teeth to demonstrate what he meant. Richard knowing he was beat sighed and turned away, if to just get away from the revolting man.

The heated exchange had occurred all while the poor kid was on the floor struggling against the headphones that were blaring white noise into his ears. They were too tight. He wouldn't be able to get them off at all, but it didn't seem to stop him from trying. He looked so helpless tied up, gagged, blindfolded. And now he had those God awful headphones on. Everyone had their mask off. They didn't need them with the kid completely unable to ID anything, let alone anyone.

"Now!" Richard shouted to the others spread out in a wide birth around the kid. "What are we going to do for our next little film?" He asked tauntingly as he looked down at the struggling man, knowing full well he couldn't hear him.

"Another?" Ian asked horrified. "You already sent them one."

"That was just to notify them of the situation. This will be the first incentive I promised them." Richard said, not spare a glance to Ian while he smiled down at the 'Doctor'.

"God." Ian muttered once again turning away from the man.

It was silent as Richard's question remained unanswered. All of them were standing apart minus two that were close to each other near a pillar. They were all taking defensive poses. Legs apart, arms crossed. They didn't like each other. They didn't know each other. They didn't trust each other. Though granted nearly all of them thought Richard a dick, Ian included, they needed a leader and none of them were willing to take the position. That being said, Richard's question remained unanswered because no one wanted to chance pissing him off.

Richard stood staring down at the man on the floor, head tilted contemplating his options. That twisted evil grin slowly spread across his face.

"Vi." He called to the only woman in the troop. He turned his head to his right where she was leaning against a pillar lazily as if this bored her. She was just as bad as him, Richard knew. They had killed him just as they did her. They had killed all of them. That's why they were here.

"Vivian." She corrected him stingingly as she sauntered forward. She was a gorgeous red head, the fact of which was only enhanced by her swinging hips. Once she was in front of Richard, he spoke again.

"Want to have some fun?" He asked through his smile. She in turn had her own smile slowly spreading across her mouth. She turned her head around behind her to the man on the floor sizing him up. She turned back to Richard, smile still on.

"Get your camera." She smirked.

Richard did just that as Vivian walked over to the Doc. She pushed him with her foot off his side and onto his back, his hands pressing in painfully. She picked up one leg and stepped over and less than gently lowered herself down, so that she was straddling his hips.

The kid grunted under Vivian's weight forcing himself harder into his bound hands. He immediately stopped struggling once her weight was one him. He couldn't see so she figured he must have been horrified as to who was on top of him.

She placed both hands on his chest moving them with pressure against his shirt and skin while they slid slowly up to and over his shoulders and then down his biceps, caressing his ribs, and then his own hips

He was unnaturally still. Tense. Shaking.

He was horrified.

She reached her hands up to his face and gently took off the ugly headphones. She heard the horrible sound emitting from them before she threw them to the side. The nearly hit one of the group who were all watching this intimate moment along with Richard holding the camcorder in his hand documenting the poor kid's extreme discomfort and torment for his extended family to see. Again, Vivian reached up and quickly ripped the tape harshly from his mouth. The kid barely hissed from the pain.

She leaned back rocking on his pelvis then placed her hands again on the young man's body, at his navel. He twitched under her unwanted touch especially it being so low. Vivian slowly fanned out her fingers and started to push her hands with straight arms up his body, rocking forward as they passed his shoulders until she was flat against his body. Her body's full weight pressed into his, her breasts resting against his chest. She listen to his shaking shallow breaths as he continued to shake, tremble. Vivian glided her hands over his shoulders again bringing them to a rest on his chest. She leaned into his face, so close until she could smell his breath. Coffee.

Vivian knew the kid knew how close she was. She knew he could feel her cool exhale against his skin. She brought one hand up to his face and pushed back a strand of stray hair away from his face with the back of a single finger. He shuddered. The same hand she brought down to grip the back of his neck. Gripping his neck with the edges of her fingers, Vivian stretched her thumb up to the front of his face having it caress the curves of his lower lip of is slightly parted mouth. His breathing was disjointed, coming and stopping, getting caught in his throat from fear. The trembling was uncontrollable, violent like. He was absolutely mortified; which might have been what finally made him speak.

"Please."

She had barely heard him and Vivian was inches away. She gripped his neck hard and leaned even closer to the side of his face, down to his ear.

"I could do it." She whispered. She could. She wouldn't. The kid needing to understand that. She didn't want him. None of them did. He was a means to an end. She grabbed the tape next to his head that she had ripped off earlier and pushed it back down over his quivering lips. She sat back up, got to one foot and then the other, walked to a bemused Richard.

"Not your type?"

"I won't. Stick to your plan." She said vehemently walking past him, and with great restraint lacked adding "pig" at the end of her sentence.

"Fine." Richard shrugged. "Someone get me a chair!"

* * *

"Okay, girly. Spill." Morgan told Garcia now that they were all gathered behind the locked door of the conference room again.

"Well, other than the fact that we now are pretty positive that those bastards used a metal detector to find where Reid's tracer was, I have info on the warehouses and empty or abandoned buildings you had me check out, Hotch."

"What do you have?"

"Well within the three hundred mile radius of where Reid was taken, there are 23 abandoned or empty building and 342 abandoned or empty warehouses." Garcia sighed depressed by the overwhelming results of her search.

"Can you narrow it down at all?" Emily asked desperate.

"'Fraid not, sweet cheeks. Most of the buildings are set for demolition so have absolutely no security whatsoever. Same goes for a fourth of the warehouses. There are a handful of private owners that I am currently background checking but so far, nada. And the rest are owned by corporations and are just not in use, and because of said lack of use, have very little to no security." Garcia finished shortly, typing away on the laptop in front of her on the table.

"They could have taken Reid to anyone of them." She sighed in the typical way of a dead end.

Garcia herd a small key tone from her computer and heard nothing more of the conversation that the others plowed into headlong. Undoubtedly they were talking about their options and where to go from here and what they knew for sure so far. But she didn't hear. The key tone had notified her of a received email from a still as of yet unknown sender.

As hard as Garcia may have tried to speak, the small video strip icon showing as an attachment to the email seemed to have a firm grasp on her, constricting her throat in fear at what it possibly held on it. Breaking free of her clutching terror, Garcia forced out o few labored breaths before she finally spoke.

"Guys."

* * *

**A/N: Ta Da! There you go! Again, hope it was worth it. Sorry if there are a bunch of opps in here but I hardly re-read through it at all cause I wanted to get it out ASAP because I had already taken so damn long.**

**Okay, so I suck. I know. ;)**

**And I'm working on it. I hereby state that I will do no later than WEEKLY updates. Meaning no more than seven days. I feel that if I make this known to everyone publically that I'll have incentive to stop being a jacka** and taking so long to update. Agreed? Friday's sound good?**

**I might update sooner than that- but that being said the chapters may be shorter. So, give me your input. Would you rather me update once a week with longer chapters, or every few days with shorter chapters? And don't forget about my SOLO shout out promise! ;)**

**So ****OFFICIALLY:**** I am sorry for my crapulence at posting in a timely manner.**

**Hopefully this won't turn into something like my New Year's Resolution. **

"**This year, I pledge to be more punctual. . . " ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Wow! Okay. So was re-reading through last chapter and cannot BELIEVE how much I suck! I'm touched that you all didn't send flying burning catapults my way let alone not a single flame. There were more f-ups in that than I think it is humanly possible to count. I plan on replacing said terrible chapter with the corrected version right after I post this chapter. I mean, my God! :(**

***angry snort* MOVING ON!**

**Okay, everybody! I'm not one to normally peddle stuff but you have got to check this out! Please look up a video called "Criminal Minds: The Team 'Family Portrait'" by EmilyProcter0891 on YouTube. It- is- A-MA-ZING! It's very well done. If you know the show you'll understand why it all fits SO well together. It makes me really sad shinning the light on how the team really is a family and is now destined to be destroyed by bad judgment. Well, I'll save all my hating for another rant. But I simply highly recommend this video for ALL fan-aficionados. **

"**Well, there it 'tis!"**

**And that being said, we have a winner from last chapter's SOLO shout out contest. **

***cough***

**And the **_**SOLO SHOUT OUT**_**goes to . . . (drum roll) . . . ****DONTTOUCH!**** Congrats for guessing correctly that the quote was indeed from the Oscar winning film: "Amadeus."**

**Runner up****: roses-have-thorns911. Thank you to all who participated, but you don't win anything. ;)**

**Regular ****SHOUT OUTS:**** danicalif80, 68luvcarter, PinkHimeLacus *;)*, WallofWeird, lovedrreid, Shea Color, PheonixTearsHP, donttouch, RavenParadox, ****1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG, TXBamaFan, momiji'sunusedhalo, roses-have-thorns911, Way Walker, sunchaser53, Abritt, WHIMSICALNOTIONS, elphatraGuin, purplerayz, maidenfan, Ella Reid, ladora, MissdaVinci77, Elvenlaughter, Shanen-Mathew-Michel-Halliwell, and juniper294. **

**Okay, so I lack any important insight into this chapter really (until after you read it- AKA at the bottom), other than to expect more of the much loved 'Reid whump.' And when I say 'whump' I mean hardcore violence. This is probably the most physically violent chapter I will write for this story-maybe. It gets pretty bad in this chapter and graphic so be warned. Also there's talk of blood again so squeamish turn away. Oh, and there is a fair amount of cursing, so, yeah. If you don't like it, get over it.**

**So, let's move on, shall we? ;)**

* * *

"Guys."

Their conversation abruptly halted midsentence as if someone had flipped a switch. Garcia's call to them had barely been audible over their own talking but the fear that they could hear in her one word was enough to bring them to their knees.

"It's a video. It's another video!" Her voice increasing in fear. "He said they would send one every day! They already sent one! They already sent one today! Why would they send another one? Why would they send another one?"

Garcia was in complete hysterics. She pleaded for answers and understanding, searching from face to face, all clearly coated in horror. They were all still. Unnaturally. Like heinously grotesque dolls permanently frozen with looks of ghastly shock and fear, open mouthed, forever to be there, unwavering until the end of time, or broken porcelain.

"Why would they send another one?" Garcia screamed at their silence.

"It's the first." Gideon spoke softly finally cutting through the horrendous silence.

"I don't understand." Emily said slowly, clearly confused and dreadful of what was on that video.

"It's the first of the 'incentives' that he promised to send. One every day until he give us instructions." Gideon said calmly though coursing with loathing, choking on his words from his hatred.

"You mean-?" JJ trailed off, close to tears as she recalled what Gideon had said the "incentives" meant- that "he's going to hurt Reid." What was on that video? She didn't want to see, but knew she would force herself to do just that.

"Play the video, Garcia." Morgan demanded interrupting JJ and cutting off anymore talking from the group as a whole. He had to see. He couldn't wait. None of them could. Garcia did some quick fiddling and typed away on her computer. All heads snapped to the screen that started to glow with the video.

It appeared to be the same warehouse as in the last video that was sent to the team- only this time there was a simple four legged straight back chair that sat in front of the dirty windows on the screen slightly off center.

In the chair there was a man.

He wore black slacks and a lavender dress shirt with a blue silk tie. He was barefoot, and there was a blood stain on the shirt on the lower left side of the shirt on the screen- the man's right. The man's hands were behind the chair along with a portion of his arms- they were tied. The man had a piece of heavy black cloth wrapped around his eyes and tied together at the back of his head, effectively blinding him to his surroundings. There was a strip of silver duct tape draped across his mouth forcing him silent. There was blood track trailing from his nose and down across the tape as well as tracks from a gash just above the man's left eyebrow that ran over his eye, through the blindfold, and down the length of his face.

The man was Reid.

Garcia choked out a helpless sob at the mere sight of her mangled friend, knowing it was only about to become worse. No one spared her a glance as their eyes remain trained on Reid. If he had to go through something like this, than they had to at least watch. Reid knew that videos were being taken and knew that they were being sent to the team. For them to not even watch it would be for Reid to go through whatever what was about to happen in vain. They couldn't do that to him. Their eyes remained trained on the screen.

A man walked into the frame from the right side of the screen, wearing a black ski mask. He was walking towards the man in the chair with large strides, as if he were in a hurry to help the man in the chair. Everyone in the room tensed as they knew this was not the case.

Suddenly the man stopped in mid stride. He turn towards the camera, lifted his hand and waved. Morgan huffed trying to control his breathing at the mockery the guy was showing. He was taunting them, and had already told them he was going to do it for the next two days and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it.

The man took the two remaining small steps to reach Reid in the chair. He stopped again, facing Reid, his side to the camera. He tilted his head as if contemplating the man before him who visibly tensed, sensing the man so close to him. The man outstretched his hand and without warning viciously tore away the tape from Reid's sensitive skin.

Reid was completely still, silent. He didn't even flinch.

_You show him, kid_, Morgan thought. Reid really was so strong and he had shown it. Too many times- more than anyone should have to. Especially anyone so young.

The man actually chuckled at the kid's resilience as he stared at him. It wouldn't last, and everyone in that small conference room with a round table watching the same terrible scene knew it. The man sighed and hunched his shoulders then as if he was dreading doing something he didn't want to. Then it was like the man exploded in a rush of furry and struck Reid so forcefully that his entire body shifted to the left and threatened to tip the chair over.

Garcia had cried out at the blow and flinched violently along with JJ who brought her hand to her mouth to stifle any potential cry of her own. Emily stared at the screen with her mouth open in shock and fear. Rossi too, looked on with fear and a mix of pity for the poor kid. Just how much could he take? Hotch stared ahead at the video like stone, in pure furry and loathing. Morgan was shaking.

And Gideon was crying.

It was silent. Reid hadn't made a single sound of pain. No gasp, no groan, no moan. Nothing other than the sound of air rushing out of his body from the force of the blow. The man chuckled at the kid again, he really was trying his damnedest.

Again he struck the kid. This time Reid's upper body was forced treacherously to the right. Again he made no sound. Hotch finally understood the placement of the chair as he continued to watch his subordinate's beating. It was off center and tilted just enough that they could always see Reid- with every blow they could see his distress, his pain.

Another strike to his face caused Reid into another forced turn. Seeming to sense to impending brain damage should he stay the course, the man the planted a fisted into Spencer's stomach.

Again, no sound as Reid doubled over. The team looked on proud as their brother raised his body up again, back against the chair waiting for the next inevitable hit, inviting it. Spencer breathed in deep regaining the air previously forced from him, again trying to steady himself for the next thrusting fist.

The man seeming to tire of Reid's silence, decided to remedy it. A one-two to his gut and a right jab to the face consecutively left Reid no time to recover forcing him to given to reflexes and cry out in pain, gasping for breath.

The simple sound broke them. Every last one of the team deemed it too much. He was fighting. Reid was fighting- with _everything_ he had and they couldn't do anything. The satisfaction he fought so hard from giving this monster was still ripped from him. His efforts were in vain and the team simply didn't have any to give. The frustration, the helplessness was toxic.

They all heard Garcia's sniffles and whimpers with every blow. They heard JJ's strangled sobs. They were all thinking the same thing. It was happening again. All over again. Terrible flashbacks danced across their visions as they remembered once before they had seen their baby boy tied to a chair and beaten within inches of his life. And again they could do nothing. How much more could Reid take before it was _too_ much? Never had any of them been more concerned that that limit was fast approaching. Unable to do _anything_, they just kept watching transfixed in horror.

Another, and again, and again. Hit after hit, blow after blow. Reid still fought- trying and most often failing at keeping silent. On the eighth strike to the face, they all heard to gruesome crunch of Reid's nose crumpling under the force of the blows for the last time, broken. He lost his fight then again. That was the worst one. He had screamed from the pain. After that, another punch had forced Reid's neck to whip to the side flinging blood from his mouth in an arch around him. The man had laughed.

Morgan eventually lost count as he stared on at his boy's hurt, amazed he hadn't lost consciousness yet. He prayed that he would- he would at least be unable to feel the pain. Every blow, every strike, every smack, every slap, every jab, every knock, every smash, every dig, every sock, trust, wallop, shot, thump, and slug was killing him. Slowly, surely and painfully. The very thought killed the others, let alone the sight of it right before their eyes. Every single ounce of sweat, blood, and tears, coming from their friend, their family, was their own slow death.

Ten minutes of it.

It last ten whole minuets.

Why?

How?

_Why?_

Reid was still alive. He was still awake. They didn't know which was crueler. The man's hands were bloody though the team couldn't tell if it was a mix of his own wounds or Reid's. Reid was unrecognizable. He was covered in blood as was his shirt from numerous splatters. His lip was busted and swollen in two places. His nose simply was not his nose. It was all wrong. The wrong place. The wrong shape. And covered in blood. His whole face was coated in blood as it spilled over from a gash on his cheek, his chin, his forehead and ears. There was even blood seeping from under the blindfold leaving them to shudder at the state that his eyes must be in.

His hair was matted and clinging to his face with sweat and blood. His chin was resting on his chest, hanging his head from exhaustion while he breathed heavily from the beating and partially blocked nose.

The man stood in front of him, hands at his side. He sighed, head low looking at the kid, shoulders hunched- like he was disappointed. He reached forward and wiped his bloody hands off on Reid's shirt. He walked around until he was behind Reid and behind the chair. He grabbed a fistful of the kid's hair and forced his head up, the kid gasping from the pain. He leaned in close, his mouth right next to Spencer's ear, smiling grotesquely, and whispered loudly, so that the camera would be able to pick it up.

"Smile for the camera, Spencer."

The man looked straight into the camera and did just that. The epitome of smug staring straight at them with a terrible jubilant glow in his eye, knowing he had won.

"Is there anything you'd like to say, Spencer?" The man taunted. But Reid didn't care. He _did_ have something to say.

"Don't - c-come, Gi-Gideon."

He could barely get the words out of his swollen, numb mouth between his jagged breaths. But he had to. Gideon couldn't come. He just couldn't. He would listen to Reid. He always trusted him, his brain, his opinion. If there ever was a time for Gideon to listen to his handpicked protégé, it was now. He would listen to Reid. He had to.

The man looked down at the kid. Shocked? Admirably? They couldn't tell. He let go of Spencer's hair, letting his head fall and his chin collide with his chest once again. He bent down and cut Reid's bonds, pushed him forward in the chair, forced his arms back, and put on fresh ties to keep his hands together right behind his back.

Without a word the man pulled the wilting Reid to his feet, dragged him a few feet away from the chair and violently threw him to the ground causing Spencer to gasp in pain as the force behind the push gave him too much momentum making him roll repeatedly until he stopped on his face. He rolled himself more comfortably on his side, unaware that he was directly in front of the camera.

The team noticed how Reid's whole body shook, almost trembled. "Fight or flight" having long ago kicked in, pumping adrenaline into Reid's veins, but being unable to do either option, remained coursing through his body's highway as the unspent energy it was, cruelly keeping him conscious and fully aware of the pain as his body jerked with it vibrating in his veins, taunting him with an impossible escape.

Emily remembered all too well what that felt like after Cyrus. She had never felt worse for Reid. She had stood there the entire beating, hand over her mouth keeping as composed as possible for the demonic ten minutes and not wavered. Now, simply seeing Reid shake from his body's own futile attempt at escape had her in tears. He was breathing heavy, gasping at some points- undoubtedly from pain and his broken nose.

The man had taken the chair and placed it in the middle of the screen right behind Reid and sat down in it. He leaned forward with his arms on his thighs and his hands clasped in front of him. He sat staring at the camera.

The team stared back.

And the man just stared.

It was like some strange alternate universe of an old western showdown, where neither party could see the other but _knew_ what they were doing. Finally, the ski mask fabric on the man's face distorted as he opened his mouth and began to speak.

"Hello, Jason."

Gideon simply couldn't breathe. He was staring at the screen. He was hearing the words. He saw the mask moving, knowing that was where the sound was emitting. And he saw the quivering Reid at the man's feet. All he could think was how he was the reason Reid was there.

"Frankly, I hate you, Jason." The man said matter-of-factly, rather cheerfully, as if he just found a dollar in his pocket. "We _all_ hate you, actually." The man motioned to either side of the camera. Slowly people started coming into sight from the sides. All of them had the same type of ski mask that the man had. Including him, there were eight, and one looked like a woman. They all took defensive poses- arms crossed. Legs separated. Head up. What did it mean? Were they simply trying to look fierce or was there more to it? As the people came into frame the man looked at them, seeming to be pleased with their number and placement, turned back to the camera and continued to talk.

"That's why we're here. We don't want this kid." The man motioned a hand down the bludgeoned Spencer at his feet. The man spoke with a pleasantness one might hear in a business exchange- trying to make a good deal but not piss off the person so much that they wouldn't sell.

"We want you." The man said slowly and simply, nodding his head as he agreed with himself along with a few of the others. "It's _your_ fault he is here. It's _your_ fault that this is happening to him. And it's _your_ fault that we all hate you." The man's voice got increasingly angrier as he spoke, putting particular emphases on every "your."

Gideon didn't need this man to tell him of his guilt. He could that just fine own his own. He already had. And he would until his dying day.

"I'm sure you and your _'team'_ have a lot of question. You'll get what you want when I get what I want." The man's voice was now forceful and demanding. Not a good sign.

"Gideon for the doc." The man gestured to the lanky frame of what he was referring to. "Simple as that." The finished, pushing off his thighs and standing up. The others remained still- unmoving behind their leader like a wall of hate and evil.

The man came forward, stepping over Spencer and came right up to the camera so close that the team could only see his eyes and the protruding fabric behind which was his nose. His head was tilted as he spoke his parting words.

"Are you gonna come yet?"

Black.

Stillness.

Silence.

Heavy and thick, deafening in their ears- pounding with blood. Lots of blood. So much blood. _Reid's_ blood. Everyone stood still looking at each other for an answer, an order, something to do. It was too still. Too quite. They all knew why. Everything was wrong. Nothing had ever been this bad. They were never this bad. They always somehow magically got the happy ending. Everything was always alright in the end. Somehow. The problem was they knew the happy ending wasn't just around the corner. The end was, and the two weren't going to meet up in the collision course that sent bursting fireworks in everyone's heart, knowing everything was alright. It wasn't.

Emily looked so beautiful with her hand gently placed over her mouth as two tear tracks could be seen on either side of her cheeks- her eyes weren't red at all, just glistening in the light from the buildup of emotion that she couldn't fight, couldn't compartmentalize away. Not with Reid.

Garcia was a mess with more tear tracks than countable running down her rosy cheeks like veins full of mascara and eyeliner. Her eyes had never been so red and blood shot. So puffy and swollen. She had been cry since 7:06 this morning.

Rossi, always so allusive and emotionally distant, now had eyes rimmed red with an open mouth bobbing up and down as he fought to speak. Anything. Words. Prayers. Something.

Hotch had his fist to his mouth with his other arm wrapped around his torso. Like Rossi, his eyes too were rimmed red but a far stronger shade, a heavier thickness hung about the pooling liquid in the corner of his eyes.

Gideon had tear tracks on his face that were nearly completely dry. His eyes were no longer red, nor swollen. He stood staring at the blackened screen as though Spencer would magically appear again if he just kept looking hard and long enough. His face was unreadable. It was blank. It was empty. It was dead.

JJ had her hands in her hair as she tugged on it at the roots on either side of her scalp. It was obvious she had been crying, and she was still, though she tried to fight it with everything she had. She had to think. She had to be logical. She had to think!

Morgan had his arms tightly weaved across his chest. He was in a strong stance trying to be tough and strong, for himself, for everyone. Such a stance could not have been more apposing to his emotions. He was trembling ever so slightly. They could all see the reflected light of the single tear that ran down his right cheek, which he wasn't even bothering to wipe away.

It was silent still, stretching on unwavering while they all simply struggled to breathe. Morgan let his arms collapse at his side unable to hold them up any longer and strode out of the room in silence. No one even glanced his way, fully understanding and lost in their own minds. Hotch let out a sigh that sounded pained, as if he had been holding his breath when really he was struggling with himself.

"Everyone take a moment . . . Meet back here in ten."

He spoke softly and barely above a whisper. He had needed to pause and swallowed between sentences to compose himself just enough that his voice didn't break. They all needed a minute. All of them. They couldn't do this. Not right now.

* * *

He couldn't feel anything anymore other than the throbbing. His entire body twitching in time with his ever persistent heartbeat. It only hurt when he moved. So he didn't.

He was on his side on the freezing, hard cement floor of what he assumed to be a warehouse from the echo of the voices- or maybe he was just going crazy. Maybe they hit him a bit harder than he thought and caused some sort of damage to his eardrum. He didn't really care- at the moment, at least.

He had been thinking nonstop since he was taken and just couldn't figure it out. All of these people obviously were mad at Gideon but they all couldn't possibly be connected together. They were just too many. The way they didn't talk to each other but only to the head man, Richard. And even when they spoke to him, they didn't respect him. It was like he, too, was a means to an end. Revenge.

The only glimmer of hope Reid had managed to find was the blindfold. They kept him blindfolded the entire time he had been here other when he was taken and they had worn masks. He couldn't ID any of them which could possibly mean they may keep their word in letting Reid go for Gideon.

No.

Gideon wouldn't come. He couldn't. Reid had told him not to. Twice. It had been the only thing he had said all day. At least he was pretty sure it was still today.

Richard had said three days. Why three? Was there some significance or did he just want to psychologically torture Gideon before he actually had hands on him? Maybe both. Maybe neither. He was definitely sadistic, for sure. But the others?

The woman.

Vivian.

She had stood Richard up. Taunted him. She had been angry at him, said she wouldn't. She told Reid she _could_ do it. What did it mean? Was she just trying to scare him?

And Ian.

He was the man that had stood up for him. Twice. The man in the van that had objected to cutting into him. The man that said the headphones were too much- even though Reid had still been able to just barely hear through the noise of them. The man with the sad eyes. The man that didn't want to do this.

So why was he?

His hate for Gideon must be overwhelming. Maybe. But one of the other's had called him Arthur. He had left after given Reid's tracer and scarf- probably sent to the team or Gideon. Arthur. Nickname? Only Richard had called him Ian. Fake name?

What did it all mean?

But right now, he didn't care.

Right now he was cold, alone and dumb. Mercifully they hadn't put the tape back on leaving him free to breathe through his sore mouth rather than his broken nose. Nor had they replaced the headphones, they had in fact left him on the ground where he had been thrown for nearly a half hour. He just lay there unmoving trying to recuperate for the emanate round two, praying it was later rather than sooner.

He could hear the voice echoing through the build somewhere off behind him- they were whispering. He could make out what they were saying. So that was it. The only thing he could really do to help himself was to listen in on his captures and try to understand them- but if he couldn't hear them, he couldn't do anything. Escape was hopeless. He had already tried to break the wire ties earlier and all it had gotten him were painful, bloody wrists and ankles. Any stretching or weakness he miraculously imposed on the bonds, were now worthless that they had been replaces. All Reid could do was wait. Wait for more pain. Wait for his team to rescue him. Wait to die. All he had to do was wait.

Mainly he waited to pass out. Reid knew it wouldn't be long now. The darkness was slowly creeping in the corners of his mind, and he welcomed it. It was only fueled by his own exhaustion.

Suddenly, there was a large, strong, warm hand on his shoulder. It was gentle as it slowly turned Spencer on his back. Reid groan at the pain the movement caused. He didn't understand. It couldn't be the second day already. Maybe they were just going to make the other films and just kill him prematurely. It wouldn't surprise him. But he didn't think he could take a beating. Not another one. Not so soon.

"Sorry." The person muttered. Of course, Ian. Richard wouldn't have been gentle.

"Come on." Ian groaned as he grabbed Reid underneath his arms and brought him up into a sitting position, but realizing that Reid was unable to support his own wait, dragged him over to a pillar. Ian leaned Spencer's back against the metal making sure there was enough room between the ground, his back, and the pillar for Reid's hands to rest comfortably.

"Here." Ian mumbled.

Suddenly Reid felt a soft pressure against his swollen lips. He flinched and turned his head away as the pressure increased.

"Please." Reid pleaded. He would take another beating over what they were trying to force him to drink, knowing more likely than anything it was some sort of sedative or some other drug. Reid didn't think he could handle addiction again. It would be the end of him. Not to mention the end or over two years being clean. Two of the hardest years of his life but he had done it, and it was only getting easier every day. The first months had been the worst going through withdrawals and then the ever present threat of relapse. He had almost started to use again after that kid but he went to the meeting. He talked about his cravings and got over it. He had never been more proud of himself and to have that hard work stolen from him as drugs were forced into him, just like last time? No. He just couldn't do it.

But this was Ian- the one man that actually seemed to want to help him. _He still kidnapped you_, his mind argued. _He hated Gideon enough to kidnap you. What's to say that he doesn't hate Gideon enough to kill you, let alone drug you?_ He couldn't trust him.

"It's just water." Ian soothed with a slightly apologetic tone. "I promise."

Spencer slowly turned his head back towards Ian and allowed him to tilt the spout of a water bottle to his lips and let a trickle of water into his mouth. Ian paused while Reid swallowed the first sip to let him judge the water for himself then tilt the bottle again for a large sip. After three gulps, Ian pulled the bottle back to let Spencer take a break.

"Thank you, Ian." Reid mumbled not sure who was listening and not sure how Ian would react but he was Spencer only chance. He was surprised to hear Ian chuckle slightly.

"I told Richard those headphones were necessary. Didn't even work." Ian said, chuckling small-ly through his smile as he whispered to Reid. It was silent as Ian tilted the bottle again and took a few more sips less tentatively.

Ian pulled back again and sighed. "I'm sorry about this, Doc."

Reid wasn't sure what to say. He needed to try to get this man to help, get him on Reid's side.

"I know that you don't want to do this." Reid said the only thing he could really think of at the moment. After all, his head was still throbbing. He was lucky he was alive, let alone conscious and talking.

"I don't want to do _this_." Ian modifying what Reid said. Reid did have to admit that "this" was probably one of, if not "the" strangest conversations he had ever had. He was sitting in a warehouse, beaten, tied up, and blindfolded talking to one of his captures, who didn't want to be hear while he gave Reid water. But he knew what Ian had meant. He felt bad for Reid. He didn't want to hurt Reid. He wanted Gideon.

"What did Gideon do to make you hate him?" Reid asked softly, hoping he hadn't gone too far, but he needed answers worth something if he was going to get anywhere. Reid heard Ian sigh like he was about to answer, but he never heard it.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Richard had yelled it across the warehouse, interrupting any possible answer from Ian. Reid could only pray that he hadn't heard the conversation. He sat frozen in fear, horrified at what Richard would do to him and Ian.

"I'm giving him water." Ian retorted angrily.

"Why?" Richard shouted fuming.

"Because he's not going to last three days without water the way your treating him." Ian argued, sick of Richard's shit.

"You want me to give him water?" Richard yelled condescendingly.

Reid heard the crackle of plastic.

"What are you doing?" Ian questioned with worry.

Suddenly, Reid felt a forceful hand grasp his chin horrendously tight and wrench his head upward. The bottle was shoved in his mouth, carelessly colliding with his mangled lip and swollen gums. Water was flooding his mouth as he coughed and sputtered gasping for air. But he received none. Richard did not pull away like Ian had to let him breathe. He shoved the bottle deeper into Reid's mouth, nearly down his throat, choking him as he try to spit out as much water as he could. Still, it was trickled down like a never ending stream forcing its way into Reid throat and down the wrong tube as he struggled to breathe making him cough more. Reid tried pulling away, turning left and right, but the hold on his chin was like a vise.

"Stop it! STOP IT!" Ian shouted at the man.

The grip was gone and the bottle was pulled from his mouth, empty. Reid fell to his side on the floor, spewing the last of the water in his mouth out like a fountain before he took in lungfuls of air and coughed harshly, tearing at his throat.

"Damn it, Richard!" Ian fumed.

"Do _not_ talk to him." Richard slowly demanded of Ian. Spencer barely heard the bottle hit the floor as Richard threw it done before he heard receding steps over his own retching.

"I'm sorry, Doc." Reid heard Ian mutter but was unable to reply from his continued bought of throat spasm.

Again, Reid heard receding footsteps.

* * *

Puppies.

Kittens.

Ducklings.

Cute, white, fuzzy, baby seals on Antarctic snow.

The stock pile of photos Garcia clicked through was barely any help. Only after a full eight minutes did she finally stop crying. She had to force herself to spend more than the millisecond she felt she could waste looking at the adorable picture. She had ten whole minutes. Ten minutes to get her shit together and the go back and find Reid. She needed to be on her game. If she couldn't at least force herself to look at the cutest creatures on Earth to make her feel better, she was far gone.

Finally, after a particularly cute picture of a baby chick on top of a cat on top of a dog, Garcia broke into the smallest of smirks. It was enough. She stared at the picture another whole minute taking deep breaths, composing herself. She could do this and God damn it, she was _going_ to do this!

She gathered her things, looked at her watch saw that she had nearly one minute left and started walking back to the conference room.

* * *

She had left the room at practically a run and went straight to her office. She slammed the door behind her and no sooner had the hinges closed than she screamed at the top of her lung with everything she had, letting it all go while her furry tore away her throat. She didn't care if anyone heard, they all knew something was wrong, they could tell, but she also knew that none of them dare asked. JJ fell to the floor in back breaking sobs holding her dead in her hands. The frustration. The helplessness. The hopelessness.

No!

They _were_ going to find. They were! She sat there on the floor, crying until the last minute. This was it- all she would allow herself. No more tear until they had him back- until he was in her arms safe in front of her own eyes. She glanced at the clock on the wall saw that she had two minutes left and stood up, turning off the tears like a faucet. She wiped the tears from her eyes. Her time was up. She was done and was allotted no more tears. JJ went to the bathroom, washed her face, Put her hair in a pony, got a drink and head for the conference room.

They would get their happy ending. She'd make damn well sure of it.

* * *

At first she had paced back and forth but then realized there were better and other things she could do to get adrenaline going. She started doing stretches, getting flexible and loose. Helping her feel free. She would have done some of her yoga but the clothes were to constricting.

She needed to be physically at ease. She wasn't going to think about it. About anything. She was going to think about it in ten minutes, that's when she could think about it. In the mean time she was going to lose her body and mind- make herself 100 percent so she could find him. They were going to find him. No questions.

A few jumping jacks, pushups, crunches, and lunges later Emily was walking back to the conference room, pumped.

* * *

Aim . . .

Fire.

Aim . . .

Fire.

Aim . . .

He had been at it for nearly ten minutes. Since he had left the room and raced down here before he did something stupid that he would regret. Judging from the shell casings at his feet he had fired over 20 rounds- over a hundred shots. _I bet Reid could tell me exactly how many, and how many I have left, and the average number of shots per minute without even blinking, _he thought bitterly.

_Stop it!_

He had come down he to clear his head or at least to get some of this-this . . . loathing out of him. Of course, he wasn't sure if it wasn't entirely directed and the captures or himself.

Gideon.

_He hadn't done anything. He only ever did his job and damn well. You used to know that._

Of course he knew that. What a terrible thing to think. Still, he thought it.

_Enough!_

Reid would have told him some quote or something about how no one can control their thoughts.

_I said, enough!_

He was right. He needed to focus, to think clearly, and quit fighting with himself. Morgan pressed the button to retrieve the firing target. Once in front of him, Morgan smiled inwardly and started heading back to the conference room. The other where probably starting to wonder where he was. The sheet had made him feel infinitesimally better. Every last shot had been a head shot and there was now a hole the size of a softball in the silhouette's head. Morgan couldn't wait until they found this bastard. Oh, and they would find him.

* * *

"Can you just put him on the phone, Jessica? I really need to talk to him."

He had gone straight to his office, and dialed a number he knew all too well. Jessica, Hailey's sister had picked up Jack, as he was rather busy ad couldn't get him. But now, he needed serious encouragement. He needed to know that there was still good in the world that there was a reason why he did this job.

"Hey, buddy!"

They talked for nearly the entire ten minutes and after they had said their goodbyes, he remembered and was at ease with renewed strength to go out and get Spencer back.

Hotch got up from his desk, left his office, and started to walk towards the conference room as he saw the others doing the same. They were already for the fight.

* * *

His head was down on the table. He hadn't left the room. What was the point? He didn't need to clear his head. He wasn't thinking. What was there to think about. He had made his decision. He would give them their chance but on the third day he would stand by his actions.

All Gideon thought about was Spencer being back in this room doing what he loved, again whole. He likely wouldn't see that come to pass, but he could see him. In his mind Gideon saw Reid with that perfect toothless grin that was the epitome of him. He would never see it again. But the important thing was that others would. The others were walking into the room and he lifted up his head.

Good. Now they could get started.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there you go! Sorry it took so long. So much for my weekly updates *shame face* but life has been getting in the way here and I have deadlines to meet- real deadlines, for a job. Hope you understand and don't hate me.**

**Okay, so! Sorry if I got this wrong but I couldn't for the life of me remember Hailey's sister's name so I went with Jessica. Sorry if I'm wrong, but if you know what it is I'll go back and fix it.**

**Hopefully this chapter is way less screwy in terms of f-ups than last time. I spent a far longer time scouring through here to see and remedy any opps! Sorry that the entire first half is really just- huge. I normally try to brake things up and have scenes but this is how I felt I had to write it. Plus I kind of change scenes really fast and multiple times near the end. Does it make up for it?**

**Well, too bad. ;)**

**I will TRY not to take so long with the next update but no promises. However, in the mean time- I've been working on a lil' sumin' sumin' to tied yall over in between updates. Check my profile in a day or two. *WINK WINK***

**So thankie to my wondress readers and-**

"**PRESS THE BUTTON, STAMPER!" **

_(SOLO shout out time! *hint hint* what do you say we make it an every chapter thing? NAME THAT MOVIE!)_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Yeah, so- ***_ducks rotten flying food_*** HEY! I suck, I know- **_**two months**_** worth of suck! I'm sorry. And it's not good enough, I know- but I'll make it up to yall- I swear! That is to say, I'll make it up to those of yall who are still reading this. You guys rule! XD**

**Okay, so last shot to through something at me. . . **_(thunk)_**-OW! Okay, we're done. Are you happy now? **

**Moving on!**

**Haha! So- OVERSITE! I forgot Rossi. *shame-face* DER! (encase you have no f-ing clue what I'm talking about perhaps you should take a moment to go back and re-read or skim last chapter to remind you what the hell is going on since I took so fucking long to post. Ahem. Sorry. ;)p )**

**Fail.**

**But being so awesome (TOOT, TOOT!), I figured out a sneaky way to make it all seem like it was on purpose. But now that I told you, you know that it wasn't really on purpose so- whatever. By the way, thanks to WallofWeird and morgo7kc for pointing out my der-der in a non-"you-suck" fashion. Cyber Hugs!**

**ANYWAY . . . !**

**I've gotten a boat load of oober awesome reviews concerning the bad guys (Richard, Ian *ish*) and how they are crazy unpredictable, and you'll see more of that this chapter, and I agree but you will understand thoroughly in time. And does anyone else get the strange feeling that Richard is kind of "The Joker"-Esq? I do, but maybe that's just me and his psycho mood swings. ;)**

**Now where was I . . . ? Oh, that's right!**

**SOLO SHOUT OUT WINNER:**** Donttouch! (Again, if you remember) ;)**

**Congrats! The quote: "Press the button, Stamper!" was indeed from ARMEGEDON. (I know I don't need the caps but the movie is just so epic I couldn't resist.) The rest of you- GET NOTHING! **

**MUWHA-HA-HAAA-HAAA-HAAAAAAAAA! HA-HAAA! HAA-HAAAA! HAA! HA! Ha.**

**Ha.**

***cough***

"**Does everybody know what time it is?" - **_(Tool Time!) _**;)**

**No.**

**IT's ****SHOUTOUTS****: MissdaVinci77, danicalif80, purplerayz, PinkHimeLacus, RavenParadox, morgo7kc, 1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG, DanceSetsMeFree, It'sTimeToDance, donttouch, Leel' -Leelee-, lovablevampire, PheonixTearsHP, WallofWeird, fallfromreality, kateadams, Nicole1995, Elvenlaughter, CherryBerryB, TheSundayBlues, Squee-bunny, Sarahloulabellx, jesusfreak100percent, xoxSamlAmxox, Shibuya Kazuya, vickimaloof, Maria Rianki, Loose Screw, Aeryn Lavanthia, BaNdGeEk4EvEr, Feathered Filly, nessie88, 92, RavenParadox, Fairytopia, Spark Shark, HarryPotterObsessed44, Miss FHorn, AnglesHaveThePhoneBox, Feathered Filly, , piowpiow, bau-is-my-dream4278, and Kam3910. You guys keep my email full and give me an excuse to not do my homework! :D**

**So- like, isn't this some kind of story or something?**

**Oh, yeah.**

**

* * *

**

It was no surprise to anyone that Garcia was the first one to come clicking down the hall in her vibrant heals to the conference room, ready to find her baby.

It too, was no surprise to anyone that when they all approached, they saw that Gideon had his head down on the round table and only lifted it as they approached. It was no surprise that he hadn't left the room, and it was no surprise that he felt the way he did. Hotch made a mental note not to leave him alone again. Who knows what he might do if. . . No! Damn it! The sooner they thought about this rationally and logically like any other case they had to solve, the sooner they would find Reid!

That being the case, no sooner did Morgan come in the room, with rather good timing, and shut the door than did Hotch burst out in spoken thought encouraging the others to figure this out.

"What do we know?"

Emily answered first, seeming somewhat twitchy and agitated. "There are eight of them."

"I thought we said four." JJ interjected, slightly downhearted.

"At least." Emily corrected.

"Garcia, can you bring up a frame of the unSubs?" Gideon asked quietly, his hands folded in front of his chin not even looking at her. Garcia fiddled on her unmoved computer from before and near immediately, a still frame of eight masked people towering over their beaten brother was on the screen. Garcia seemed to understandably be averting her eyes.

"Look! One of them's a woman!" Emily gasped to the others, pointing to the screen and at the figure directly behind the one sitting in the chair and to the right, having not noticed her originally due to having been focus solely on Reid.

"You're right." Hotch muttered taking in the curving, thin shape of the figure and the slightly protruding chest and narrow head.

"Look at how they're standing." Morgan muttered seeming to be thinking aloud. "They're all stiff and . . . defensive." Morgan finished confused be his own observations.

"What?" JJ asked worriedly confused at her lack of understanding. "Couldn't they just be trying to intimidate?"

"Maybe. But there's not really a point. Reid can't see them and we're where they can't do anything to us and they don't even want to. They want Gideon." Morgan said matter-of-factly, and continued on, staring at the screen seeming to not notice the strange stiffness that overcame all of them at the mention of the captures' desire.

"Look at them. It's more like- they don't seem to trust each other." Morgan said slowly worried and intrigued by his revelation.

"What do you mean?" Hotch asked concerned, looking Morgan dead on, inviting elaboration.

"See how they're all standing apart from each other?" Morgan asked rhetorically and went on. "They all have their feet apart, arms crossed, straight backed. It's like they don't know each other." Morgan said still confused unsure of where even he was going.

"Except those two." Emily put in, pointing to two figures on the far left standing close together and somewhat back to back. "They're closer together and seem to be protecting each other." Emily mulled.

"Okay so, if they don't know each other how did they all come to be involved in this together?" JJ asked, looking for answers to basic necessary questions.

"Maybe we were right about recruitment." Morgan suggested.

_BANG!_

"Guys!" Rossi shouted as he burst through the door, interrupting Hotch as he opened his mouth to respond to Morgan but in mid thought changed to answer to Rossi's intrusion. Hotch hadn't even noticed that he wasn't there when they started.

"Dave? What's wrong?" Hotch asked horrified at what else they all could take in one day.

"I ran down to the lab to get the results from the stain in the burnt van Morgan, Emily, and JJ checked out this morning!" Rossi gasped, breathing heavily to catch his breath. He must not have been lying about actually running down to the lab, and undoubtedly back.

"And?" Morgan asked slightly irritated at Rossi's hesitation.

"It's blood." Rossi sighed. "And it's Reid's."

The room was suddenly radiating intensity as it tingled through the air stabbing at everyone with the promise of hope that they fought so hard not to allow themselves.

"How can they be sure? The van was barely a frame by the time we got there?" JJ argued- she couldn't handle false hope. Not right now- most likely, not ever.

"They said the test only had 87 percent accuracy because of potential damage from the fire." Rossi replied, reciting from memory a conversation he soon would never forget. He had run straight to the lab, not 3 floors below once Hotch had given them their ten minutes to gather themselves. Rossi's best way to gather himself was to involve himself in any way possible into the case. He couldn't just take ten minutes and do nothing. He used his ten minutes to find Reid.

"Garcia! Get me _everything_ on that van." Hotch practically yelled at her in his near giddiness at some lead. They had a lead. Finally. He just hoped it would be enough. No sooner had Hotch said her name then Garcia was already edging towards the door.

"If we're right about the recruitment, then it's possible that the owner is involved." Hotch rushed out spilling over his own words in his excitement. No sooner were they out of his mouth, than Garcia was out the door calling back to them.

"I'll run the serial, see what I can find." Was all they made out before she was at the stairs and could no longer be heard.

Rossi silently shut the door knowing what else this realization meant, as did Hotch.

"If we're right out the recruitment and the unSub got all these people together against Gideon, it also mean that one of the unSubs has access to files, specifically case files involving cases Gideon worked and one way or another went ere. Basically, this furthers the probability of someone _here_ that is involved in all of this." Hotch fumed lowering his voice as he spoke.

"Rossi? Does anyone know about this?" Hotch asked, knowing the answer but still needing to be sure.

"Not that I told." Rossi said simply understanding Hotch's need to ask leaving him unoffended.

"I know I don't need to tell you all how careful we need to be, but I _cannot_ stress it enough." Hotch continued quietly, addressing them all. They silently nodded their heads in comprehension, and being unable to speak from their furry at the fact that someone they had worked with was practically confirmed in being involved in the kidnapping and torture of their friend, their brother.

It was silent for only a moment longer while everyone mulled over the likely hood of an FBI agent's involvement until Hotch broke the silence eager to not let the team fester in their hate and put any thoughts into action. The only action they need to take right now, was action to find Reid.

"Alright. So this head guy, he's obviously the leader." He began, pausing as an invitation to the others to put up their own two cents.

"He's cocky, controlling, paranoid-" Emily began but was interrupted.

"How can you tell?" JJ asked, worried to get something wrong.

"See how much care he takes to make sure everything's right?" Emily said looking towards the screen and, Rossi took the hint to let it play and pressed the button. "He looks behind him at the others to make sure they look perfect. He makes sure to have the chair Reid's in angled just right, so that no matter what we can always see him." Hotch nodding his understanding at what he had notice before as she continued.

"This man sets up the scene so that, to him, everything is perfect and he's in total control. The way he talks- strong and demanding but casual at other times is to make it shown that he is the one in control. He is probably the recruiter and the brains of everything but without the information and the means." Emily finished, crestfallen at what it all meant.

"Nine." Gideon sighed letting his hands wash over his face.

"God." JJ muttered at the sheer expanse of how many were involved and one of their own as well- it was just overwhelming.

"He's a sadist." Morgan cut through the silence, angrily.

"What?" Hotch pushed, not positive he understood the reasoning.

"Think about it. He's in charge, right?" Morgan asked rhetorically and a little heated at the mere subject matter.

No one answered.

"He could have anyone one of his men be the one to beat the crap out of Reid, and not get his hands dirty. But he did it himself! Why?" Morgan fumed, again rhetorically. Morgan shook his head slightly as he fought the urge to scream and stay calm and further explain his reasoning.

"There are two types of torture. Functional- for a purpose like getting information or punishment, and then there's sadistic torture. This whole situation should only functional, but it's not. It's both." Morgan ranted. "He's doing this to make a point and punish Gideon, but he's enjoying it! He laughed at Reid and he's mocking us!" Morgan finished huffing slightly from is barely controlled anger.

"What does that mean?" JJ asked quietly.

"It means this isn't to get Gideon to come out of hiding- it's to punish him for whatever they think is his fault and get him to come to them to completely get whatever their twisted idea of revenge is." Hotch growled from next to Gideon with his arms crossed.

"But I don't understand. Why make it seem like they were torturing Reid just to get Gideon out if hiding if they knew where he was the whole time? Why 'Marco?'" Emily listed from next to a radiating Morgan, completely confused.

"I don't know. Perhaps he's lying to the others. Maybe it's part of the game." Hotch nearly yelled in his frustration, tossing his hand up exasperatedly as he turn round in his lost thought.

"This is not a game."

Morgan had been so quiet they had barely heard him. His voice was constricted and broken as he fought his emotion and overwhelming urge to tackle Hotch and his uncaring words.

Everyone was deathly silent and still, horrified at it all. The choice of words, the emotions, the situation and worse what it still had yet to lead to.

"I didn't mean that." Hotch spoke softly and slowly- as a cross between both an apology and warning. It did not go unnoticed by Morgan and the others. Rossi broke the heavy thick silence finally.

"Why the three days?"

"What?" JJ asked, getting thoroughly annoyed with her lack of understanding of most of what was going on. Not thinking about Reid was hard enough.

"The leader said he would tell us in _three_ days where to meet and he would give back Reid. He's going to keep him for three days. Why?" Rossi pressed.

"There has to be some significance to him." Morgan put in, anxious to get somewhere.

"Wouldn't it be something significant to all of them?" JJ asked trying not to miss anything.

"Not necessarily." Emily soothed. "If he _is_ lying to the others about Gideon coming out of hiding, there's nothing to say he would lie to them about some excuse for this. And he's in control; they may just be following him not matter what as long as they get their revenge." Emily finished quietly at the awkwardness. Gideon hadn't said anything in quite some time.

"So the connection is because they all hate Gideon." Hotch picked up the discussion clearly to slowed by the awkwardness of a colleague's potential death, recapping their learnings. "This head man is likely the recruiter though not the one with information, meaning in some way he is connected to a FBI agent in this office." Hotch stated, again angry. Rossi in turn picked up the declining conversation.

"The man's a sadist and is going to hold Reid for three days until he tells us where to meet him." Rossi spoke normally like any other case but chose his words with great care.

"Me."

Gideon's voice was husky with emotion and muffled as his hands were on his face.

"What?" Rossi asked, politely- as if he were truly confused but all too well knew what Gideon meant and what his plans were and that they were already set in stone. This would be a challenge.

"Until he tells _me_ where to meet him." Gideon corrected again, quietly.

"Gideon, you can't be ser-" Emily began. She just couldn't believe that Gideon, _the_ Jason Gideon, would give up so easily. Not the Gideon she knew- or used to know.

"'You will be alone. You will be unwired. You will be unarmed. You will be on time.'" Gideon recited Spencer's capture's demands, blank faced.

"Gideon, I agree that we should try to get Reid back as safely as possible but not at the loss of someone else. There are other ways to do this." Hotch spoke to Gideon, concerned.

"Like what?" Morgan fired at Hotch, challenging him, seemingly to believe it perfectly expectable to sacrifice the old man that had abandoned his son. All that mattered was getting Reid back.

"We will figure something out." Hotch said slowly the warning back in his voice and etched with concern at his subordinate's immediate acceptance of Gideon's sacrifice.

"We can't wait three days. Reid can't wait three days!" Morgan fumed his boss.

"Until we have something, we're going to have to." Rossi replied matter-of-factly, slightly angry himself, not at Morgan's acceptance of Gideon going to the slaughter (he understood that himself) but at Morgan's own anger at Hotch for his position. He only spoke the truth- fact and logic, something Morgan seemed to refuse to accept.

"We cannot allow a civilian go into a situation alone, unhooked, and unarmed to trade himself for an agent." Hotch spoke calmly trying to enforce logic.

"Then what are we _supposed_ to do? Hmm?" Morgan argued back, full out shouting now. They couldn't just not do anything! "Are we supposed to sit here, _do_ _nothing_ and wait while this bastard tortures Reid again and again?" Morgan was choking on his words, fumbling over them as he fought his emotions from going into action- the hate, the fear, the loss. Hotch simply stared on coldly as he watched Morgan yell. He needed this, he knew that, but he was still mad at Morgan's resilience to accept the facts. Their only option- at this point- was to wait. So Hotch would make sure he knew it.

"Yes."

Morgan was silenced. His mouth was open and he stood with a look of horror on his face. It was as if he had seen Reid beaten all over again but impossibly worse. How could this man who Reid considered a friend, almost like a father, tell him that they weren't going to do anything? How could he just expect them all to just sit there and wait? Wait while they _knew_ that their friend- their brother was being tortured and they weren't doing anything to stop it.

"What?" Morgan deathly whispered.

"We aren't going to do anything because there is nothing we can do." Hotch said simply though still strong and loud from his dying angry embers. "The one lead we have is being followed and until something comes of it- we have nothing."

It was a dagger in the heart- ice cold and coated with salt, scratching against their already deep wounds, insulting them all with their unwavering helplessness. Knowing it was one thing, accepting it another- but to hear it, to hear it come from the mouth of your leader was something else entirely. To hear it come from a man you trusted your life with and to know he was right- that it was true? That was what was the pain. Fact. Solid, steadfast, rooted fact- and nothing could change it.

"Right now, our best option is once we get the location, we go there and raid once we're certain that Reid is there." Rossi spoke up from the abyss.

"We go in there guns blazing and Reid's there, we could kill him." Morgan argued back, grabbing at anything, trying his damnedest to deny the truth of it all- of Hotch's words, Rossi's understanding.

"The second those people have their hands on Gideon, Reid is dead!" Rossi retorted angrily, knowing exactly what Morgan had been insinuating. He needed to accept the fact that if he didn't get his shit together and think logically, or did something stupid, or even if he didn't- they might not be getting Reid back. And surely not the same Reid that was taken from them.

"Reid is just a means to an end to these people. Just and pawn!" Rossi continued, fighting for Morgan to come to terms with everything. If he didn't do it now and the worse came about . . . well he didn't really want to think that far.

Emily jumped in then anxious to shed some light in the conversation on something good- something good?

"It's almost the end of the first day, and we all know how strong he is. He'll make it." She said forcefully believing it a fact. Morgan did not seem very assuaged. "And the blindfold!" Emily nearly shouted, almost . . . giddy?

"What?" Morgan barked, clearly over his head as Hotch muttered "Maybe."

"Reid's still wearing the blindfold! And the unSubs are wearing masks!" Emily continued still excited, not trying to fight her hope any more.

"So?" Morgan pushed still lost.

"We can't ID them and neither can Reid! It's very possible that they will let Reid go!" Emily wanted to bounce up and down.

"Only in exchange for Gideon." Morgan said darkly, effectively bursting that bubble, glaring back towards Hotch.

"I am not choosing Gideon over Reid, Morgan." Hotch said softly, finally understanding Morgan's hate.

"Then let me go to them, Hotch." Gideon pleaded, standing up to face Hotch. "It's my fault. Please, let me save him."

Hotch ignored Gideon's guilty that would take far too long to dissolve at this moment.

"Gideon, I told you there were limitations." Hotch said softly again, not wanting to argue with a man he once greatly respected least of all in front of the team he abandoned.

"I can take care of myself."

"Not if you're giving yourself up for Reid. This isn't political bullshit. It's not about civilian vs. agent. It's about choosing a friend to die. And I'm not choosing Reid over you, either. I'm not choosing." Hotch said determined.

"Reid chose. Once." Gideon whispered. Still everyone had heard. "He did what he had to, to survive. We couldn't help him then, and we _still_ _**can't**_. How many times can you expect someone to save themselves?"Gideon finished with a bite in his hushed tones as he strode from the room, and away from the others, a strange familiar clicking sound preceding him. Hotch closed his eyes aware that again, Gideon had not budged.

It was silent once again. Everyone understood, though excepting was something else. Even Morgan was finished. He shoulders were hunched over as he rested his hands on the table and leaned into them with his head bowed.

Rossi stood in the same defensive and bold stance that he was in when he argued with Morgan but now the feeling behind it gone, was awkwardly trying to figure out how to move out of it when he was frozen from the shock of Gideon's quiet outburst.

Emily was stiff, arm across her stomach and the other up with her hand against her mouth as she made her mouth stay shut so she didn't say something she would regret. She was pissed. This was their only "good" option but it wasn't good enough- not even close. She stared off seemingly distantly, not at looking anyone, though taking in everything around her as she remain completely still- like a child having forced conversation with a parent that they knew was still mad from an earlier argument and was wary of what could happen if re-angered.

JJ was near the corner in a similar pose, with red rimmed eyes. As a tear feel down her check, she pushed it away angrily as if it were something disgusting. Finally, Emily shattered the gelatinous thickness that was the air of radiating emotions that was around them.

"Are you sure it's wise to let him leave? In this state?" Emily asked of Hotch, her own voice heavy and constricted with repressed rage.

"I have someone one him." Hotch sighed.

"Someone you trust?" Morgan asked, slightly harsher than he meant to as he lifted his head from looking and the grain of the table.

"With my life."

Morgan nodded and Hotch's forceful, challenging statement. He trusted him, though he didn't like his decision, Morgan trusted him. Eventually, he knew Gideon would realize that too.

"I'm going to help Garcia."

Morgan knew that there was absolutely nothing he could help Penelope with and that if he actually tried to, he more than likely would just be in the way. But he needed to be were something was being done- even if he wasn't the one doing it, to see it with his own eyes that Reid wasn't being left for dead would be just enough to keep him here instead of running off to manually search every warehouse that Garcia had listed to them.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there you go. Sorry for the semi-cliffy but you know how it is. ;)p And sorry it took a bit longer (massive roll of eyes) than usual, but I hope my other ficlet held yall over 'til this. BTW- if you did read my other story please let it be noted that I **_**AM**_** going to continue it. :D However, posts for **_**Home, Sweet Home**_** will be few and far between until I finish THIS story. ;) Don't want to get too far ahead of myself. But seeing as how I already blew my punctuality for this fic, I'm gonna post a chappy for **_**Home, Sweet Home**_** next. That and there is one wonderfully dedicated fan, PinkHimeLacus, who isn't pushy but just extremely loving and helpful when it comes to furthering the plot of **_**Home, Sweet Home**_** as well as actually posting updates. I love you, and the next chappy is for you! :D**

**But fear not, you will not have to wait too long. I now have very free weekend mornings to do nothing but write now that I have moved up to Chicago and am going to school- which is pretty much THE reason for being so terribly unpunctual with this latest update. What with packing, planning and driving over 20 hrs to get here, and of course the actual learning of the courses, things were and have been pretty hectic. **

**So, yeah. This chapter was very team-y and not so much Reid-y, but yall needed to know the info and how the case was going. There'll be more team-y investigation stuff next chappy. And by "team-y" I mean lack of action and very factual- not team involvement and emotion but there is that too but there always will be. ;)p BUT I can say with certainty that next chapter will also be more Reid-y. ;)p**

**Oh- quick question. I'm considering having Elle pop in at some point just for a quick little fluffy cameo. Thoughts? Love to hear from yall.**

**I was originally planning on having this chapter WAAAAAY longer (about 2.5 times longer) BUT it would have been an overload on both the investigation data/fact stuff and the eyes. And if I wasn't going to end it in the spot I was originally going to this was the only spot I would both accept and kinda like so it was a bit shorter than typical- plus I was DYING to update! And I know there's no Reid in this chapter at all but trust me, there is SO much more to come. I really enjoyed writing all the team's fighting and hope it was believable and yall liked it. If I didn't quite get it right and something's confusing, let me know and I'll help ya out although everything of course always becomes clearer as we go along.**

**Ok so again- SORRY I SUCK SO MUCH! But like I promised in my very first post: "I would rather shoot myself in the foot than not finish a story" so PLEASE, just stick with me! And I swear, I will never ever ever EVER not post for so long again, unless say- I DIE! (in which case I will have my sister log on and say so.) ;)p**

**So, I bet you didn't know this but I can read minds. Right now, half of you are thinking about tacos and the other half is thinking about pushing that little button shaped like a speech bubble. Come on! Who can resist a button? ;)p**

**GOD, I'M GLAD TO BE BACK! XD**


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